Mad Empire
by JadziaVu
Summary: Gotham's most feared chaotic clown couple has ruled over the city for seven years now, but what will happen when Batman finally realizes that Harley Quinn is more than just his enemy's dangerous sidekick, and that he finally has something to threaten him with? (Sequel to 'Harleen')
1. The Perfect Gift

**Hey ya'll! **

**For anyone who has not read 'Harleen', while it is not required, I do recommend it for this story. Otherwise, you might be a bit lost in some places that have already been previously explained. I hope you enjoy it, and as always:**

**The Joker: Heath Ledger**

**Harley Quinn: Kristen Bell**

**Batman/Bruce Wayne: Christian Bale**

**Tim Drake/Robin: Liam Aiken**

**Joey Asaro: Vin Diesel**

**Plus any others that pop up along the way…*wink wink***

**Also, 'Where is My Mind?' by Pixies is a good song to start this with.**

* * *

Harley Quinn adjusted the microphone dangling from her headset as she typed loudly on her keyboard, clicking the mouse every once in a while, and staring wide eyed at the computer monitor which lit up the back of the van. It had been seven years to the night since the death of Dr. Quinzel and she couldn't be happier. Harleen was still lurking around in the dark, resurfacing for a moment here and there, but for the most part Harley ran the show these days, and she preferred it that way.

"Any day now", the impatient voice of her boyfriend beeped into her headset.

"Just keep your pants on, damnit, I'm working on it", she was getting frustrated with him. Hacking wasn't something that could be done on his schedule and he incessantly annoyed her like a child in the backseat of a long road trip. She heard him sigh on the other end and flick the blade of his knife open and closed.

"Ok, ready?" she asked.

"Waiting on you."

"49, 29, 63, 20, 38-"

"Slow down!"

"Well, shit! You were in such a damn hurry a minute ago! 42…91…64…10", she finished, there was a click and she heard the security door open on his end.

"Cameras?" he asked.

"They're down."

The sound of running shoes echoed in her headset as she squinted at the screen; someone was trying to use the same frequency they were on, but it wasn't a police radio, it was a private channel. A sinister smile spread across her face; she clicked her mouse and typed something quickly onto the keyboard.

The voice of a woman bled through the fuzzy reception, clearing up gradually, "Batman, can you hear me? Batman?"

Harley cleared her throat, "Evening, _Oracle_."

"Quinn."

"How are you these days? Run any marathons lately?" she asked maliciously.

"Classy as always, _Dr. Quinzel_", she retorted, and Harley sneered at the name, "I assume you and the Old Man are celebrating your anniversary in style tonight?"

"As always."

"Hope you don't mind if we gate crash."

Just then, the sound of breaking glass leaked into her headset followed by open gunfire.

Harley smiled, "We were counting on it", she clicked the mouse and broke the frequency.

The gunfire ceased and The Joker's voice spoke, "How exactly is it that I can walk through the back door, and you can break through the roof, destroying priceless works of art in your path, but _I'm_ the asshole? It's a funny world we live in."

"One, two, three, four…five?" Harley whispered to herself, reading the heat sensors on her computer screen before shouting into the microphone, "Boss! There's someone else in there with him."

"Sean, check it out", he instructed.

"How long are we going to keep doing this, Joker? When are you just going to accept the fact that you're sick, and belong in a cage?" the gravelly voice of The Batman leaked through the headset.

"Me?" her boyfriend laughed, " What makes me any different from you, hm?"

"Plenty."

"No, no, you wanna know the only difference between the two of us, Bats? Ya see, I got it all figured out, and I'll share it with you; just one…_bad_…day."

Harley watched as Sean's heat signature approached the extra one she had counted, "Slow it down, Sean, he's right on the other side of that doorway", she warned him and his pace slowed. "He's moving! Look out!" the other heat blurp moved quickly on the screen, and Sean's stopped dead in its spot as the extra one continued into the room where her boyfriend stood, taunting his enemy. "To your left, Mr. J! No, you're _other_ left! Fuck!"

"Stand down, Joker, you're finished", the other voice demanded.

The Joker laughed again, "_Another_ bat boy? How many of you little bastards do I have to beat to death? Oof!" the air was knocked out of him with the sound of a punch to the stomach, and he cackled hysterically.

**['Paper Planes' by MIA]**

Harley removed her headset and reached to grab her shotgun and four gas masks which she looped over her forearm, "Like herding fucking cats", she muttered under her breath and opened the door to the back of the van. The short heels of her expensive, custom made leather boots clacked the ground of the driveway as she approached the art museum. Her low braided pigtails bounced against the shoulders of her red and black suit vest and the black greasepaint diamonds over her eyes smeared as she pulled a gas mask over her head. When she reached the back door, she stood back and cocked the gun, pointing it at the handle and pulling the trigger. The alarm to the building immediately sounded as she pulled the door ajar and rushed inside, tossing down pellets she pulled from her pockets which burst as they hit the floor, releasing a thick green gas. She encountered Sean in the hallway first; he was old cold, but she slipped a mask quickly over his head as he lay on the floor, then held her gun at the ready as she approached the doorway into the main hall of the museum. As she peered inside, she could see The Joker laughing face first on the floor, blood spilling from his nose as The Batman attempted to cuff his wriggling wrists behind him. The 'New Robin' was standing with his back to Harley and holding the other disarmed henchman, Joey, by an arm that was bound behind him. She smirked under her mask.

_Idiot._

She stepped into the room and threw the butt of her gun into the back of his head, sending him flying forward and catching himself on all fours. The Batman stood and faced her, reaching for a baterang, but she had the shotgun pressing against his sidekick's head.

"Back!" she ordered, muffled beneath her mask.

The Batman hesitated, but slowly took a step backward. The green gas was beginning to leak into the main hall and Harley straddled Robin's back, keeping her gun close to his skull and eyeing The Batman. She tossed a gas mask to The Joker as he stood from the floor and he pulled it over his head, walking over to take the gun from her and continue holding Robin hostage so she could cut Joey's restraints and give him a mask. The Batman stood glaring at The Joker, clenching his fists as Robin began coughing from the gas that rose from the floor.

"Well, Bats, it's been fun but I'm afraid it's past Harley's bedtime, and she gets cranky if I don't give 'er some before bed. Know what I mean?" he quipped and his enemy shuddered.

Harley pulled a black pellet from her back pocket and tossed it onto the floor. A thick black cloud filled the room instantly and the trio took the opportunity to sprint from the room and back toward the busted security door. Harley ran to the spot where Sean had been laying and kicked him hard in the ribs, rendering him suddenly alert, but disoriented. She grabbed his wrists and yanked him onto his feet, guiding him out of the building.

Across the street, The Joker stuck his head out of the driver side window of the black van, "Harley! Move your ass!"

She dragged the hazy Sean behind her just as the flashing lights to the approaching police cars appeared around the corner of the block. Joey was waiting for them in the back of the van, holding the doors ajar as they jumped in.

"GO!" Harley screamed, and the tires squealed loudly, spinning in place for a second before pushing the van off at high speed. Joey pulled the doors closed behind them and Harley climbed to the front of the vehicle, stepping between the seats into the passenger seat of the cab.

"Goddamnit, Harley, what have I told you about picking up the stragglers?" her boyfriend scolded her as she sat down, pulling her gun out of the glove compartments and rolling down the window to fire and few rounds at the police cars behind them.

"Take a left up here, you do know which direction that is don't you?" she asked sarcastically, firing the gun.

Her boyfriend sneered at her, "The House is _that _way!" he pointed.

Harley reached back into the glove compartment and pulled out a homemade detonator, "Damnit, Boss, remember that 'trust' thing we talked about?"

"Don't give me your psychobabble marriage counseling bullshit right now, Harley!"

"Uh, Mom? Dad?" Sean quipped from the back of the van, shooting through the door as he held it open, "The Bat's got a trail on us now."

The Joker and Harley looked quickly through their rearview mirrors and exchanged a glance.

"LEFT! NOW!" she shouted at him.

"Gaaah!" he yelled and yanked the wheel sharply in that direction, causing the henchman and the computer in the back to crash to the floor and Harley to slam her back into the passenger door. Her gun fired in her hand and made a hole in the windshield.

"Watch it!" he scolded.

"Learn how to drive!" she retorted, picking up the detonator and glancing in the rearview mirror, "Almost…there!" she pressed the button and an explosion sent the cop cars behind them flying into the air and crashing into the two motorcycles that carried their vigilante pursuers. The Joker bounced in his seat and slapped the steering wheel with one of his gloved hands, guffawing loudly.

"When did you set that up?" he asked his girlfriend.

"Last night. Happy anniversary", she smiled proudly at him.

"You little minx", he grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss.

She began stoking his green hair, "I love you, Puddin'."

He pulled a gold stemmed rose from inside his coat pocket; the leaves and thorns were made of emerald and the peddles were rubies, "Happy anniversary. 'Come down and see me sometime', remember?"

She smiled and took the gift in both hands, "I sure do! It's beautiful, thank you."

They continued kissing and whispering things quietly to one another the rest of the way back to the hideout. The two henchmen exchanged a glance in the back of the van and shook their heads. Sean twirled his index finger in front of his ear, miming the sign for 'crazy', and Joey chuckled quietly, resting his head onto the wall of the van.


	2. Thou Shalt Not Covet

**Mac Schwartz: Owen Clive**

* * *

Mackenzie Schwartz had known Joey Asaro his entire life. They grew up next door to each other, went to the same schools, ran with the same gangs, sometimes even dated the same girls. So, when Mac enquired as to how Joey managed to keep such an extravagant lifestyle; large lakeside home, luxury sports car, Armani suits; his friend offered his help to get him into his 'gang'. After waiting for about a month to hear back, Mac finally gave his dear old friend a phone call.

"Yeah, we been kinda busy, but I talked to The Boss", he had said on the other end, "Meet me behind the old Opera House in North Gotham at 5:00 pm on Monday. Don't be seen, and don't be late."

Mac thought it was strange that Joey would want to meet him behind a condemned building on a forgotten side of Gotham, but he trusted him. At precisely 4:59 pm that next Monday evening, the new recruit strolled up the concrete driveway to the right of the old Opera House. He had decided to walk since it would be easier not to be seen. As the parking garage in the back came into view, he noticed three cars and a black van parked on the bottom floor, and rounded the corner to find Joey standing on the steps to the back stage entrance, checking his watch.

"Right on time", his friend smiled at him as he climbed the steps, reaching out a hand to shake his and pull him in for a brotherly hug, "You ready for this, man?"

"I heard some good things about workin' for this nutcase. Some not so good things, too, but I can handle it", he responded with a confident smile.

"Well, then come on in", Joey said as he opened the door.

Mac walked into the darkened area behind the stage of the theater, and could see light peeking in through the curtains on the other side. Joey came in behind him and headed for a door to the left, "Welcome to 'The House'. Come on, I'll show ya 'round. We'll go this way first."

The door lead the two into a hallway that was once clearly meant for employees; it was bare and unattractive, but it spilled them out into a large, extravagant, marble floored foyer which was now set up as a security station and living area. On one wall, closest to a door labeled 'Cigar Lounge and Martini Bar', a long table had been set up, covered with computer screens that monitored the different parts around The House from the cameras that had been set up. On the opposite side of the room, a long Victorian style couch, two arm chairs, and a coffee table faced the wall which held a huge flat screen television. Underneath were about four different video game consoles with remotes tangled here and there along the marble tiles.

"This is the main security room where we can keep an eye on the place. Got a little entertainment there to keep us busy between shifts, but you can't be messin' around if you're on the job. That's only for after hours while you're here", Joey explained.

Joey began to turn back and head toward the doorway to the right of the staircase, but Mac grabbed his elbow and pulled him back. A blonde woman had just emerged from the Cigar Lounge. She was built like a Roman goddess; not very tall, but fit and muscular with hourglass curves that followed her breasts and small waist, down to her perfectly rounded bottom and muscular legs. She had clearly just woken up; she had on no makeup and was wearing red pajama pants with a black tank top, but Mac still thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

He stared at her with wide-eyed interest, "Whoa! Who's the sex kitten?"

Joey shook his head seriously, "Naw, man, don't even go there. That's the Boss' sex kitten."

Mac scrunched his face at him, "Wha? You gotta be kiddin' me! How the hell did _he_ end up with somethin' like _that_?

"I'm warnin' you, Mac, let it go. He'll cut your eyes out if he catches you ogling his girl, and that's if you're lucky. Oh, I almost forgot to show you the chow room, this way."

The new recruit's eyes remained glued to Harley's body as the two of them walked to the door at the front of the foyer, across from the room where she had just entered. He reluctantly followed his guide through the door frame and observed the extravagant banquet hall on the other side.

"So, if you're gonna eat, ya gotta do it in here. Ms. Quinn don't like bugs n'shit all over The House. The kitchen's back this way", Joey walked over to the back corner where a set of metal doors rested.

He pushed them open and switched on the florescent lights, some of which were burned out while others flickered. The kitchen was set in a white room with tiles along the walls and metal cabinets and counters surrounding three of the long walls. A large metallic island rested in the middle and an assortment of pots and pans hovered over the top. The room housed two stoves, three ovens, and two large refrigerators, none of which matched and Mac assumed these must be newer models that were added after the building was taken over.

"All the appliances work, so you can cook if ya want," Joey explained, "That fridge there is ours, that other one is the Boss'. Sometimes Ms. Quinn'll make like a big oven dinner or somethin' and let us have some, but don't expect her to be cookin' your meals or nothin'. The Boss don't like her actin' all domestic, which is also where you come in."

Mac glanced at him, "Me?"

"Yeah", he chuckled, "You're the newest recruit, which means you'll be doin' all the cleanin' and laundry."

"You gotta be shittin' me!"

"Hey man, you wanna work with us or not? I had to do it in the beginning, and so will the next sorry loser who comes in after you. That's just the way things are."

Mac rolled his eyes and grumbled. As ridiculous as domestic chores sounded, he had heard a lot of good things on the street about the benefits of working as one of The Joker's goons; primarily the financial incentive. His new boss wasn't a man who cared about material possessions or the money that bought them. If he organized a heist of a major casino or pillaged a highly respected art museum, it was for the sheer joy of reaping havoc and attracting the attention of The Batman who he greatly enjoyed antagonizing; it was well known as his favorite game. As such, the henchmen involved in each of these jobs were more than welcome to take the trophies of their work home with them. Working for The Joker wasn't exactly a job that any man could volunteer for, either. You had to be recruited either based upon your performance under another criminal or if someone vouched for you, and Joey was vouching for him. He shut the lights off in the kitchen and the two of them returned to the foyer to find Ms. Quinn seated comfortably on the couch, tapping rapidly on an Xbox remote with her thumbs, eyes glued to large flat screen television.

"Mornin', Boss", Joey's voice distracted Mac from his trance and he glanced to his left.

The Joker had just emerged from the door to the Cigar Lounge; hair disheveled and wrapped in a green cotton robe. He rubbed the corner of his eye with a finger and gave Joey a small nod as he shuffled sleepily over to the couch were Ms. Quinn sat. He lowered his head into her vision from the back of the furniture, attempting to kiss her as she struggled to see the television.

"Puddin'! You're gonna make me die!" she scolded him playfully.

Joey was speaking to Mac again, but he wasn't listening. His mind was distracted by the disbelief that such a beautiful woman would be involved with such a monster. It was the first time he had ever seen The Joker without his grease paint mask, and decided he was even more intimidating without it. It was like watching Beauty and The Beast.

"Yo!", Joey nudged him with an elbow, and he shook himself back to reality, "Come on, I'll show you where the quarters are."

He followed him toward the opening to the left of the marble staircase, took a left, and continued down a red carpeted slope that gradually curved to the right and ended at a door labeled 'Dressing Rooms'. Joey pushed open the door and entered the perpendicular hallway lined with five more doors on the opposite side.

"So, the way it works is: you get assigned to a shift that usually lasts for about a week, and during that week, you'll be assigned to another time slot and post somewhere in The House. So, like me, I work the night shift from 5:00pm to 1:00pm and keep an eye on the monitors you saw up in the foyer. I'm also The Boss' go-to guy for errands and driving him and Ms. Quinn somewhere if they need it. When I ain't on the clock, I can do pretty much whatever I want, but I can't leave. There's beds in these rooms you can crash on and all kinds'a movies and video games and shit layin' around, so it's easy to stay entertained, but no drugs and no drinkin'. The Boss don't care what you do when you ain't here, but you gotta keep a clear head when you're at The House."

Mac scoffed, "Sure are a lot of damn rules for a place run by a guy who hates established order."

"Yeah well, these rules were all put in place by him and Ms. Quinn over time, trial and error, ya know? Anyhow-"

"-That shit still blows my mind, man, pretty girl like that with a freak like him. Whole damn world's gone crazy."

Joey stopped walking and squared off with him, lifting a serious brow, "They _are_ crazy, both of 'em; he's crazy, she's crazy, and their crazy for each other. Even if it don't seem like it the way they smack each other around sometimes. You'll let it go, like I said, if you know what's best for ya, and don't _ever_ let her hear you call him that."

"What, freak?"

"_Ever_", he turned to continue walking, "So anyways, down here ya got the showers-"

"-Wait, they smack _each other_ around? You mean she hits him?", Mac enquired, ignoring the advice of his friend.

Joey sighed, "Yeah, he hits her, she hits him; she leaves or he kicks her out; she comes back or he goes and gets her. It's one big fucked up mess of a relationship, but it works for them, alright? You'll figure it out the longer you're here, if you make it that long."

Mac thought it better to drop the subject as the two of them walked to the end of the hall and through the door which was a mirror image of the way they had entered from the other direction. As they climbed up the sloped carpet to return the foyer he could hear the echo of sweet feminine laughter, like the song of an angel. Joey pulled open the door to their right as they reached the top, and the pair entered the far right aisle of the theater seating. The Opera House had been abandoned for more than fifteen years, but the golden, high vaulted, acoustic ceilings of the room seemed to be immaculately frozen in time. The seating to their right had been completely removed and replaced with a large array of exercise equipment; machines, free weights, treadmills, and a single elliptical trainer that Mac guessed must belong to The Joker's beautiful girlfriend.

"So, as you can see, we got everything here to keep you in shape. It ain't required, The Boss could care less if your lazy ass gets left behind on a job, but I recommend it if you wanna keep up with us", Joey continued, "Over there, you can play games or watch movies or whatever during your free time."

He gestured to the front of the stage where a very large movie theater screen hung from the ceiling across the room from a high definition projector that was positioned on the balcony area above them.

"So, I guess that's it. You got any questions?" the henchman asked the new recruit.

"Yeah", Mac bravely enquired, "How'd they meet?"

Joey threw his head back in frustration.

"Look, look, just answer my questions and I won't say no more about it", Mac chuckled with hands held in the air.

Joey hesitated and studied his face, "Alright, fine", he reluctantly agreed as he took a seat in one of the folding theater chairs in the middle of the room, "She was his shrink at Arkham. He seduced her, got in her head or somethin', then six months later she broke him out and here she is. I known The Boss the longest; been around since before he got thrown in there the first time, and I can tell you, she's gotten in his head too. Ain't nothin' or nobody getting' between them two and if you're thinkin' about tryin' somethin' funny with her, I'll go ahead a say 'so long' to ya right now. She may be a sweetheart most'a the time, but she's got a mean streak almost as bad as his, if not worse."

Mac took a seat next to him and laughed, "Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Well, you piss the Boss off, he'll most likely just shoot ya or cut ya open and be done with it. You piss Ms. Quinn off, and well, let's just say she likes to watch her worms wriggle a little. She'll have you beggin' for death by the end."

Mac didn't look convinced, so Joey continued, "For example, she's got these two hyenas, right?"

"Hy-what?"

"Hyena's, man, ya know like from Africa; Bud and Lou. They were an anniversary present from The Boss couple of years back, and she treats 'em like her damn children; feeds 'em huge steaks n'shit, and you better treat 'em the same if you know what's best for ya. Jimmy, he's dead now, he walked around here for a good year without a tongue before he took a bullet to the head on a job. All 'cause he cussed at Bud for stealin' some food off his plate."

The recruit's expression changed, and he finally looked surprised, "She cut the guy's tongue out?"

"Oh yeah, and with The Boss holdin' his mouth open while he laughed. I'm tellin' ya, they're sick, Man. Now, with that said, Ms. Quinn, she can be a real sweetheart. She's the one that takes care of us goons when we get hurt on the job or sick or somethin'. Calls us her 'boys', and most of us are only still walkin' around 'cause she stepped in and talked The Boss outta shootin' us for pullin' somethin' stupid. Just don't take her sweet nature for granted, and _do not_ piss her off", he lowered his voice, "She's got some kinda multiple personality somethin' or other. Mental shit, ya know?"

Mac sat back, taking it all in, "How am I supposed to know what not to do?"

"Well, be nice to her 'babies', first of all. Second, don't even think about firtin' with her. She belongs to The Boss, like his property, and even she'll tell ya that. Some days they hate each other and duke it out, other times they're so into each other it'll make you sick; kissin' and lovin' on each other, whisperin' sweet nothin's to each other n'shit. I almost like it better when they're tryin' to kill each other."

The recruit shuddered. What had he gotten himself into?

The two men twisted around and glanced back at the sound of the door to the foyer being pulled open. Two huge cackling mammals entered the room, followed closely by Ms. Quinn while The Joker held the door ajar for her and bowed as she walked by and lovingly stroked his scarred cheek.

"Speak of the Devils," Joey whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Hey there, Boss, Ms. Quinn. You need the theater?"

"You can stay if you want, Joe", Harley responded as she took a seat in the back middle where they could see the large screen.

She was wrapped in a soft-looking, purple, cotton blanket and Mac decided she looked like a beautiful dream as she snuggled into her seat and waited for her boyfriend to join her.

"What's showin' tonight, Miss?" Joey asked her.

"Chick flick", The Joker responded, taking a seat next to her in his robe and putting an arm around her.

Mac could feel the envy turn his face green as he watched her lay her precious blonde head onto his shoulder. He had never cared about intimacy or commitment before, but for her, he would definitely make an exception.

"Kill Bill", she answered with a smile.

"Why don't you go make us some popcorn, eh, Sparky?" Mac's new boss addressed him when he noticed his jealous stare.

"It's Mac, Sir", he corrected him without thinking and Joey elbowed him hard in the ribs.

The Joker lifted an eyebrow to him and opened his mouth to speak, but Ms. Quinn's sweet voice interjected, "Mr. J likes lots of butter, Mac."

She was protecting him from his own stupid comment and he suddenly adored her even more. Rising from his seat, he started toward the back of the theater while The Joker's eyes bore a hole into him. One of the dog-like beasts stepped out in front of him, making him trip and slam his shin into one of the seats. He wanted to kick the stupid animal, but could see Ms. Quinn lift her head to look at him in his peripheral vision, so he patted him gently on the head instead.

"Come sit by Mama, Buddy Baby!" She called, and the monster trotted over toward her.

Mac exited the theater into the foyer with his friend close at his heels and the two of them marched quickly to the kitchen together.

"Man, you ain't been here one hour and you're already fuckin' up", Joey scolded him as he reached into a metal cabinet and pulled out a bag of microwave popcorn, "I ain't gonna be able ta step in and protect your stupid ass like I use to, man, you better chill."

"Did you see her stick up for me?" Mac asked him with a smile as he leaned against the counter.

His friend shot him an angry glance, "She wasn't stickin' up for you, you reject. She was tryin' to keep The Boss from getting' into a bad mood and ruinin' their day off; it was their anniversary yesterday. Just keep your mouth shut from now on."

After the popcorn was done, and plenty of butter had been added, the two of them returned to the theater where the lights had been shut off and the movie was starting. Mac was carrying the bowl as they traveled carefully down the dim aisle to their seats. He became sick to his stomach when he noticed The Joker and Ms. Quinn sharing a passionate kiss in the dark, like a pair of teenagers on a first date. Not sure what would happen if he interrupted them, he quietly found a seat and waited for them to finish before handing the popcorn back to them. After a few minutes, he glanced back carefully; Ms. Quinn was resting her head on The Joker's shoulder again, and they were talking about the movie.

He stood and reached back toward them with the bowl, "Here ya go, Boss, Ms. Quinn. I, uh, didn't wanna interrupt you before."

His boss squinted at him and reached out to take the bowl, Ms. Quinn gave him a smile and his stomach fluttered. He had never felt this way about any girl, why did she have to be so unattainable?

"Down in front, Daffy!" The Joker's voice broke him from the trance he didn't realize he had been in; lost in her blue eyes.

He quickly took a seat. This job was going to be harder than he thought.


	3. Vroom Vroom

**Thought I would pay homage to one of my favorite JokerxHarley moments, with my own little twist, of course. Kuddos to you if you recognize it :)**

* * *

The Joker was working on a chemical equation, writing furiously and frustrated at the temperature of the room. The heating system had been on the fritz, and it was either much to warm or much too cold inside The House until it could be fixed; and right now, he was burning up. He had stripped down to his wife-beater and purple slacks, and Harley sat at her desk dressed in a tank top and pair of athletic shorts. Her legs were propped up onto one corner as she clicked her mouse and typed at her computer, scanning the three large monitors in front of her.

He looked over at her and traced the smooth skin of her milky legs with his eyes. It had been almost two weeks since he had been inside of her but he could wait, he had to wait. He had to make her want it, dream about it, convulse in withdrawal for it; that's how he remained in control, even though a small voice in the back of his mind constantly reminded him how hopelessly addicted he was to her. She was inside his head, imbedded deep under his flesh, coursing in his veins, and he injected her like a drug that he knew would surely kill him someday.

Sometimes he would catch himself staring at her, worshiping her, and it would infuriate him. So, he would strike her and immediately hate himself, hoping secretly that she would hit him back. Sometimes she would, other times he would have to provoke her by hitting her a second time, loathing himself even further.

Sometimes he would let himself indulge in her nurturing embrace and sweet kisses. He enjoyed it more than he would ever allow her or himself to know. Her very touch set his flesh on fire and her blue eyes drew him in like a moth to its own beautifully flickering demise. He would often attempt to ignore her, sometimes for days at a time, proving that he still had the power to exist independently of her; that she needed him more than he needed her. It incensed him when she would refuse to comply with this tactic by disregarding him in return; she was suppose to pine for him, beg for his affection. When she didn't he would punish her, forcing her to lash out and finally throw him a harsh blow as he secretly swooned at the exquisite stinging of her skin on his.

This relentless game of push and pull was the only control he knew he had left over the way she made him… _feel_; something he had not done for many years before he met her. He had kicked her out almost as many times as she had left on her own, but it always suffocated him to watch her leave. Sometimes he would yank her back inside the building before she had even left the lot of the Opera House, other times he would wait as long has he could stand it before fetching her from the one place she always sought refuge; The Plant's house.

Most often she would return on her own and after she was back home he would dote on her for days, sometimes weeks, bending to her every wish and relishing in the pleasure he gained from watching her writhe in the affection he bestowed on her. Again, it made him feel in power; her angst, her ecstasy, it was all sourced from him and him alone. No other man in his right mind would ever touch her, ever look at her. He would tear the throat out of anyone who dare harass or insult her in any way. She was his Clown Princess, his possession, his obsession, and he was afflicted with her.

She looked over and noticed him staring; he quickly averted his eyes back to the papers on his desk. He had lost track of the chemical equation he had been balancing and cussed himself under his breath, starting again from the top. Halfway through, however, he caught himself staring back over at her and threw his pencil down in frustration.

"What's wrong, Puddin'?" she asked him as he leaned back in his chair and scratched his head.

"Nothing", he insisted shortly, looking back at her legs, "Go put some damn clothes on, Harley."

She gave him a confused look, "I am wearing clothes."

"Those shorts are too short, you're gonna give the boys the wrong impression."

She paused and her expression changed, "Only boy I see here is you", she said, seductively tracing the inside of her thigh with her fingertip and driving him crazy, "Mr. J…"

She knew exactly what she was doing to him, that name drove him wild. He could feel his temperature rise as the uncontrollable lust spread through his veins. It angered him that he couldn't prevent it and he leaped from his seat, yanking her up from her chair by an elbow and pushing her toward the dresser next to the bed, "Put some damn pants on!"

He attempted to hide his predicament, but she had already seen the desire in his eyes, and teased him by locking eyes with him as she slowly removed the athletic shorts to reveal the red laced panties underneath. He couldn't take his eyes off of her and his breathing increased involuntarily, but he refused to give in to her seductive allure. The sex had to be on his terms always or else she would find loopholes with which to control him; she was no dummy after all. He turned his back on her and began writing a bunch of nothing as his mind fought to remove the images of her perfect body and the things he could do to it. The drawer to the dresser opened and closed, and after a moment, she was returning to her desk as he watched her in his peripheral vision. She propped her legs back onto the edge as she had them before, and continued typing quietly.

The Joker turned his head slowly and observed her new lower half; completely covered, but wrapped in a close-fitting pair of yoga pants that hugged her perfectly shaped bottom. It was a bit large by societies' standards with their stick-figure model worship, but he preferred it that way. There was a snapping sound, and he looked down to find that he had broken his pencil in half. He angrily tossed it at the wall and heard Harley snicker at him.

His head snapped toward her, "What the hell's so funny?"

She turned around in her chair and straddled the back of it, making his head spin, "Aw, come on, Puddin', don't you wanna rev up your Harley?" she asked playfully, bringing her hands in the air in front of her and flicking her wrists back, "Vroom, vroom", she whispered with a grin.

A tingle shot down his spine and he had to turn away from her to look down at the desk again, "No."

He saw her get up and approach him slowly, lifting a leg to sit on the edge of his desk and wrap her foot around his side. This was torture and he couldn't stand it, the desk was his favorite place to take her and she knew it. He clinched his jaw and looked up at her, giving her a warning glare, but she ignored it and slid her body in front of him, pushing his papers aside.

"We've been working so hard these past couple of weeks. Don't you think we deserve a little playtime?" she asked sweetly, stroking a hand through his long hair.

He had to get a hold on the situation before he lost his cool and bent her over the desk. Standing up quickly, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it from his hair, squeezing it tightly and making her moan. Over the years, she had grown to enjoy the roughness of his sexual nature, and he could no long use it against her in situations like this; it only aroused her and further pushed him over the edge. He had had enough, she was not going to win this game. He slapped her and pushed his hand in her face, knocking her off the desk onto the floor, immediately wishing he could shove a pistol in his mouth. She stared angrily up at him for a moment, then rose to her feet and began slipping on her shoes quickly.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

She didn't answer and started for the door. He followed her and grabbed her wrist again, but this time, she didn't appear to enjoy it, "I asked you where you were going."

She shook her arm out of his grasp, "Away from _you_!"

In the foyer, Mac looked up from his hand of cards and exchanged a glance with Joey; Ms. Quinn and The Boss were fighting again. Their shouts were increasing in volume and echoing into the foyer where the two henchman were manning their security post and passing the time by playing cards. Mac looked toward the door of the Cigar Lounge.

"Let it go, man", Joey warned him quietly, staring back at his cards.

He tried, but it made his back ache to think of that Son-of-a-Bitch laying his hands on that beautiful woman. He'd never do such a thing to her if he was ever lucky enough to call her his own. At that moment, he saw Ms. Quinn storm from the room, throwing the door back on its hinges.

"Harley! Don't you walk away from me, we aren't through!" The Joker came out shouting, close to her heels.

"Oh we're through, in more ways than one!" Harley yelled back at him over her shoulder and she strided away from him on her short, but perfect legs. Mac could swear he caught a look of distraught panic in The Joker's face, but it faded quickly into blind rage.

"The only way you're leaving this building is in a casket!" he yelled after her, increasing his speed.

"Well, then you better start slicing, Stabby, I'm gone!" she retorted, and Mac's heart sank as he watched her go.

The Joker made large steps with his long thighs and caught her by the arm just as she reached the doorway to the left of the staircase. She struggled in his grasp, "Let me go, _Jack_" she finally demanded, staring into his eyes.

He grabbed her face quickly with his other hand and smashed her cheeks together, "What did I tell you about that fucking name?"

Mac was about ready to jump from his seat when her closed fist suddenly swung around in midair, catching her boyfriend square in the jaw. He released her and staggered backward, holding his face. They paused and looked at each other for a moment, and he finally threw his arm in the air, "Fine! You wanna go? Fuck off! Who needs you?"

They both turned quickly on their heels and walked in opposite directions; Ms. Quinn into the theater, The Joker back toward the Cigar Lounge. He caught Mac's gaze and threw him a hateful glare, "The fuck you lookin' at?"

The henchman quickly averted his eyes back to his cards as his boss passed and entered his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. After a second, the wall shook as he threw a fist into it on the other side. Joey gave Mac a look, "You'd better say your prayers tonight, man. God just intervened for your stupid ass, I thought he was gonna cut your eyes out. I told you, let it go, this is just the way things are."

"It just ain't right, man. I'm glad she left him."

"She'll be back."

"Naw, man, she looked really pissed. She even hit his ass, d'you see that?"

Joey rolled his eyes from behind his cards.

"What'cha think they argue about?" Mac enquired.

Joey sniffed and leaned back in his chair, checking the monitor before looking back at his cards, "Usually starts with somethin' related to the next job; building blueprints or schematics or somethin' else Ms. Quinn's workin' on. Then it blows up into a fight about nothin', but she'll be back."

"And he beats her for it, huh?"

"If he gets mad enough. She ain't no angel either, though, you just seen her sock him in the jaw. Sometimes she's the first one ta throw the punch, and she fights dirty, too. I seen her bring a knee into his nads a few times. "

The door to the Cigar Lounge swung back open and The Joker emerged, fully clothed and pulling his gloves on over his hands, bare face partially hidden by his black fedora. He approached the table without looking at the men and quickly checked the monitors.

"She went down that alleyway there, Boss", Joey said, pointing at the screen, and The Joker took off toward the door to the theater in a half-walk, half-jog.

Mac gave his friend a dirty look, "The hell d'you do that for? He's just gonna go beat the hell outta her."

Joey chuckled in his throat, "No he ain't."

Mac threw his cards on the table and started to get up.

"Sit your ass back down", Joey warned him.

"I'm not just gonna sit back and-"

"-He ain't gonna hurt her, just trust me."

Mac reluctantly lowered himself back into his seat and the two sat in silence for a while, exchanging cards on the table.

"So his name is Jack?" he asked after a few minutes.

His friend lifted an eyebrow to him, "Pretend you didn't even hear that, man. I'm surprised he didn't cut her tongue out for sayin' it herself."

"He probably would have if she hadn't socked him in the face like that. The girl knows how ta stick up for herself."

Joey chuckled, "Yeah, and The Boss ain't got no one to blame but himself for that one. He's the one who taught her how ta fight. She can probably outshoot most of us, and I know for a fact any one of us would be dead meat if she ever got her little hands on a knife."

Mac shook his head, "Smart, beautiful, sexy, tough. Damn, why couldn't I have been thrown in Arkham seven years ago?"

His friend rolled his eyes and glanced at the monitor, "There, see? I told ya", he gestured toward the screen.

Mac leaned forward and squinted at the image of his boss holding Ms. Quinn up against the wall of the parking garage by her thighs, thrusting against her as she kissed him and knocked the fedora to the ground to grab a handful of hair.

Joey looked back at his cards and smirked, "Sometimes I think they fight just so they can make up." He laid a card on the table and looked up at his friend whose eyes were still glued to the screen, "Quit watchin', you creep! It ain't HBO!"

Mac felt himself blush as he quickly looked back down at his terrible hand, wishing he was the one whose hair she was pulling.

The Joker slowly released Harley's thighs and breathed hard against her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him. She laid her forehead onto his shoulder, trying to catch her own breath. Reaching up with a delicate hand, she softly stroked one of his scarred cheeks and he squeezed her tighter in his strong arms.

"You make me crazy", he said, muffled into her neck.

She grinned, "You like it."

He picked his head up and kissed her, "Unfortunately."

Harley pushed back on him gently and reached down to loop the leg of her yoga pants back around her ankle and pull them up while The Joker zipped his slacks and grabbed his fedora from the ground. He put his arm around her and they walked to the stage door together.

She pointed a finger in the direction of the security camera, "Think we gave them a show?"

"They didn't watch it if they know what's best for 'em", he responded.


	4. Attachment

**Alfred Pennyworth: Michael Caine (I was SO excited when they made him Al, he is my favorite!)**

* * *

The curtains were pulled aside, spreading light onto Bruce's eyelids and he grumbled sleepily, wincing as he attempted to move his extremities. The two ribs on his right were definitely broken, and he only hoped that the ankle was just badly sprained.

"Morning, Masta' Wayne, I trust you slept as well as can be expected?" Alfred's voice chimed as he bustled about the room.

Bruce squinted at him through one eye, still trying to adjust to the obnoxious light that was bombarding his vision. His head was still pounding slightly, and he was desperately attempting to stifle the cough which he knew would send agonizing pain shooting through his ribcage. His attempts were unsuccessful, however, and he rolled to his side sputtering loudly and clutching his side. He had inhaled too much of the black gas and bits of it still mingled in his sputum.

"How's Tim?" he enquired hoarsely.

"A sight betta' off than you, Suh, I must say. His leg and back are badly bruised, but young men always have a way of bouncing back, if you don't mind my pun", the butler answered with a grin.

The explosion set off by Harley the night before had sent Robin's motorcycle careening through the air, tossing him off and onto the overflowing contents of a dumpster which, by luck, belonged to the nearby bakery. The trash bags full of unused dough and unsold pastries broke his fall before bouncing him lightly out and onto the concrete surface of the street. Batman, however, had not been so lucky; his bike had managed to stay on the ground as he attempted to swerve around the obstacles of patrol cars debris that were now flying in his direction. If he had only taken his eyes off of the back of the black van he was pursuing, he would have noticed the tire that flew in his direction, giving him time to react. As it was, he was knocked from his bike and slammed into a streetlight, but he couldn't remember much after that.

"Are you calling me old, Alfred?" he asked through sharp breaths of air as he tried to sit up in bed.

"No, Suh, I was merely pointing out the circumstantial evidence that separates his current condition from your own", he answered slyly, handing him a cup of hot tea and two pain pills.

Bruce tossed the pills into his mouth and swallowed them with a mouthful of the hot lemon tea. It felt good as it hit his stomach, and the moist fumes aided his breathing. He closed his eyes and rested his head back onto the headboard of the bed, "I shouldn't have let him come, it's still too soon for him."

Alfred spread a dollop of antibiotic cream onto his fingers and rubbed it against the gash in Bruce's chin, "If my memory serves me well, I seem to rememba' anotha' young lad whom you tried to prevent following you out of one of your many adventures; Masta' Grayson remains just as willful to this day, as I unda'stand it."

"Yeah, and all the protection in the world couldn't stop what happened to Jason or Barbra", Bruce muttered.

His butler straightened up and stared down at him, "What happened to Masta' Todd and Ms. Gordon was no fault of yours, Suh, an' you must come to terms with that."

Bruce sighed, eyes still closed, and decided it best to change the subject, "That girlfriend of his has become much more than a nuisance over the years."

"Suh?"

"Harley Quinn; she's become a dangerous ally. Frankly, I'm surprise he's kept her around for so long", he lifted his head and opened his eyes, "Ya know, Alfred, the only thing he even bothered to take last night was that bejeweled rose."

"Worth more than a few million dollars I imagine."

"Yeah, but it isn't like him; he doesn't care about monetary possessions. He didn't even bother to smash or blow anything up, at least not in the museum, and part of me says it was actually Harley who set the explosion; it looked more like one of hers. He normally picks places to attack that he knows will be crawling with innocent bystanders; make a scene, ensue chaos, but he's been straying from his M.O. lately. It's strange", Bruce squinted as he pondered over his rival's unusual behavioral change.

Alfred grabbed the empty tea cup from his hand and laid his robe on the edge of the bed, "I have learned to expect nothing less than the unexpected from a man such as him, and one would indeed not expect for him to have a genuine emotional attachment to anyone otha' than himself."

"Attachment", Bruce muttered under his breath as he thought, "Hm."

He inhaled a sharp breath as he sat up to pull his robe on over his arms. The pain was less intense with the medication, but it would still be difficult to move until the ribs had healed some. He looked down at his swollen ankle and attempted to rotated it, grimacing at the soreness and crunching sensation from within. Laying it carefully onto the rug, he pushed into the bed with his fists, causing the pain to stab at his ribcage, and stood slowly. He could walk on it with a limp, but the stairs might be an interesting task. Hobbling to the bedroom door, he caught sight of Tim emerging from his own bedroom down the hall.

They exchanged a glance and he walked over to him, "How's your ribs?"

"I've had worse, you?"

Tim rubbed his lower back with a hand, "Pretty bruised and there's a lump in the muscle, but should be fine. Can you make it down the stairs on that ankle?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Listen, I don't want you going back out for a while. You got really lucky last night, but things could have been much worse."

His sidekick shot him an angry look, "That's bullshit! I've trained for almost two years now!"

Bruce didn't feel like arguing. He grunted as he limped past his angry partner and started down the hallway for the stairs.

"You can't stop me, you know", he heard him challenge behind him, but he ignored it and kept walking, "Hey, what's The Joker's deal lately, anyway?"

He stopped.

"I mean", Tim continued, "when we were leaving the museum, I saw him waiting for Harley who had fallen behind with some other guy. He never waits for anyone, does he? I've never seen him give a rats about one of his thugs before."

Bruce hobbled around to face him, "You noticed that, too, huh?"

"It's strange."

"Yeah, I know", he chewed the inside of his mouth as he stared at the rug in the hallway.

"You don't think he could actually care about her, do you?"

Bruce looked up at him, "Seven years ago, I would have told you The Joker was incapable of human emotion, but now…now I just don't know."


	5. Dirty Laundry

**Edward Nigma/The Riddler: Jude Law**

**I want to give a BIG thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and followed my stories so far! It is really encouraging, and I get excited every time I see a new email alert pop up on my phone! All feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)**

**I have been a writing maching lately, trying to get as many of my ideas down on paper as I can before I leave for the wonderful world of unpaid clinical internships, yay me. Hopefully, I will be able to finish 'Mad Empire' before I go, but if not, I promise to update as much as possible.**

**Enjoy!**

**-J**

* * *

"_Oh there's no backin' out now, you're gonna go through with the plan as we discussed, and just 'cause I figured you for a weasel that might try an' turn tail, I bought myself some insurance", the man responded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cell phone. He punched the digits with his thumb and placed it to his ear, "Let him talk to the wife."_

_Jack saw his vision blur as the sweat immediately began to bead on his forehead and the panic set in. The man held the phone out for him and he took it reluctantly, "Jeannie?"_

"_Jack? What's going on?" Her voice was fearful and shaky, "Who are these men?"_

"_Sweetness, I uh", he glanced nervously at the man in the trench coat, "I need you to stay calm, OK? You don't need to get yourself all worked up."_

"_Jack, I'm scared."_

"_I know, Sugar, but-"_

"_Alright, time's up", the man reached for the phone._

"_Jeannie, I love you!"_

_He took the phone and flipped it shut, ending the call._

"_Please, Tom, she's a high risk pregnancy; she's not even suppose to have conceived", Jack pleaded._

_Tom checked his watch and looked at him unsympathetically, shaking his head, "You young couples these days. That sounds like your fault, not mine. Shoulda' kept it in your pants or gotten snipped or somethin'. Come on, Jackie boy, we got a job ta do."_

The sudden screech of the alarm clock jolted The Joker into a state of alertness, for which he was grateful. He brought his palm down onto the top of the digital clock to silence it and reached up to turn the small knob of the lamp on his bedside table. Propping up on one elbow, he rubbed his eyes between his fingers and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the images out of his mind. He grunted and rolled over to find Harley still fast asleep; laying naked on her stomach, head under the pillow, arm dangling over the edge of the mattress. He grinned and scooted over to her, wrapping an arm around her narrow waist and kissing her softly between the shoulder blades. Seven years ago he couldn't get her to sleep if he knocked her unconscious with the butt end of a handgun, now she could sleep for sixteen hours straight and still go back for a nap before the end of the day. She had finally managed to put on about twenty five pounds of much needed weight, and a good amount of muscle mass. Most men might be repulsed by the way her lean muscles were chiseled beneath her soft pale skin, but he found it incredibly sexy.

"Harrrrrley", he breathed onto her skin and smirked as he watched the goosebumps spread; she was awake. He rubbed the tip of his nose along one of the long scares that etched down her back, and her lower spine arched slightly. He had given her those scars; eight of them that reminded him of a time when his seduction was a game. Before it had turned into a full on case of hopeless obsession, before he had slipped. The thought of teasing the crazed animal locked in its cage had seemed like an enticing sport, but he had gotten careless, gotten too close, been bitten; and now he was infected with her.

"Time to get up, Baby Doll", he whispered.

She groaned in protest under her pillow and he lifted it to see the corner of her mouth slightly curved. He rolled her into him and pressed the flesh of his chest against her back, burying his face into her neck and breathing in her sweet scent. His thumb stroked a ripple of her muscular abdomen and she extended her extremities to stretch and yawn.

"Come on, Sweetness, we haven't had a training day since the night of the Bat", he coaxed, "We're getting soft just laying here."

She moaned sweetly and smirked, "That was only three weeks ago."

They normally had training days three times a week, but things had gotten a little hectic planning for what mischief they would cause during the holidays this year. It was by far their favorite time of year, and planning could get out of hand. Harley rubbed her eyes and rolled onto her back to look sleepily up at her boyfriend while he drew an invisible line down her sternum with his index finger.

"What are going to do?" she asked.

"Probably need to get a couple of miles in, then I figured we'd do some sparring, maybe finish up with some weights", he answered, now tracing her ribcage.

"We haven't sparred in a while."

"Mhm", he scooted down to kiss her stomach, "You know what else we haven't done in a while?"

"Target practice?" she asked coyly.

He shifted his weight onto her and brought his head up to kiss her, "If that's what you wanna call it."

She turned her head away, "I have morning breath."

"I don't care, so do I. Kiss me."

She parted her lips gently on his and her heart beat wildly with excited anticipation as she stroked the muscles of his back with her fingertips, but a knock at the door sent her spirits crashing to the floor.

"WHAT?" The Joker growled.

"Sorry, Boss, but Mr. Nigma's here ta see ya" Joey's voice spoke muffled through the door.

Harley whimpered and looked up at her boyfriend who rolled his eyes in frustration, "Damn, I forgot all about Nigma."

He rolled off of her and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching down for his boxers as Harley threw her fists into the mattress beside her.

He noticed her tantrum and chuckled, "Now, now, Princess. I'll make it up to ya."

Bud and Lou looked up from their floor beds and noticed their master dressing, rising to greet him eagerly.

The Joker maneuvered around them with his hands in the air, "Alright, boys, alright. What'chu want, huh? Ya gotta piss?"

Harley sat up on her side of the bed, "I'll take them out", she groaned.

He bent down while he buttoned his shirt and they tried to lick his face as he whispered to them, "Mom's mad."

She shot him a glare, but he only winked at her as he wrapped his silk tie around his neck. Throwing on her red robe and slipping on her flip flops, she opened the door into the foyer, "Come on, Babies!"

The beasts trotted quickly after her, cackling as she approached the tall man in the green bowler hat who stood patiently beside table where Joey sat. He removed it and bowed to her, "My dear Miss Quinn, how are you this evening?"

"Been better, Eddie", she responded, reaching up to hug his neck and plant a small kiss on each cheek.

"But she'll get over it", the amused voice of The Joker insisted.

He extended a gloved hand and greeted Nigma with a shake. The man in the green suit began to speak, but couldn't be heard over the shouting that was now increasing in volume from the living area in front of the television. Two of the henchmen were watching a championship basketball game and fighting over a bet that had been placed between them. Without looking, The Joker removed his gun from the inside of his suit coat and pulled the trigger in their direction. The bullet exploded through the skull of one of the men and imbedded itself into the wall on the other side of the flat screen television which sparked and blinked for a moment before shutting off. The other man turned around in his seat to stare in terror at his boss who was placing his gun back in its holster.

"I'm sorry about that, Ed, you were saying?" he asked casually.

Harley reached into her boyfriends back pocket and retrieved his wallet, pulling out a stack of dollar bills and replacing it as he spoke to his guest. She approached the couch were the surviving henchman still sat, staring at her in shock.

She threw the stack of money down next to him, "Here. Clean this mess up and go buy me a new goddamn T.V."

The terrified man looked down at the money, then to the bloody pile of meat that was once his partner's head. Harley snapped her fingers, "Today, today!" He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

"Come on, Babies!" she called to her pets and they followed her through the foyer and into the theater.

She yawned as she climbed the stairs to the stage and stepped behind the curtain. Pushing the door to the back stage entrance open, the two cackling hyenas exited and ran about the back lot, sniffing the ground as she shivered slightly from the chill in the air.

"Miss Quinn?" she turned to face the male voice that had addressed her.

Mac stepped from the door to the employee corridor that lead into the foyer and the dressing area beneath the stage, "I heard a gunshot, everything ok?"

She patted her pets as they climbed back into the building, "Oh yeah, Mr. J was just settling a little domestic dispute. Boys will be boys, ya know."

He grinned at her and chuckled nervously.

"Mac, right?"

"Uh, yes, Ma'am."

"Can you make sure Bud and Lou get fed? I need to get ready for training."

"No problem, Miss Quinn."

She grinned and walked past him to enter the door he had just come through. Her scent wafted the air for moment as she passed, and he breathed it in deep, closing his eyes. At the end of the corridor, Harley opened the door to the foyer to find that The Joker was already walking back with Nigma to show him out.

"Leaving so soon, Ed?" she enquired.

"Much to get done, but I hope you'll come visit me tonight, Miss", he answered, tipping his hat.

"Yeah, she'll be there. We need to check in on things anyhow", The Joker answered for her as they walked through the door into the theater.

Harley smiled, "Eddie! Are we partners now?", she asked excitedly.

Her boyfriend poked his head back into the foyer for a second and gave her an assuring wink before disappearing behind it again. She clapped her hands joyfully and skipped to her room to get dressed, passing the henchman who was desperately trying to clean the blood soaked furniture with a wet towel.

An hour later, Harley was taking in deep controlled breaths of cool night air as she jogged alongside her boyfriend. His legs were much longer than hers and she felt that she had to work twice as hard just to keep up, but her endurance had improved a hundred fold since she first started training with him seven years ago. Their black hoodies were pulled over their heads and concealed most of their features as they passed under the dim streetlights of their abandoned stretch of city streets. It was drizzling lightly and she was silently cussing the cold in her fingertips when she noticed him look playfully down at her as a keen grin spread across his face.

"What?" she asked.

"Race you back."

"No way, you always win."

"That's why it's fun", he retorted.

"No."

"Spoil sport", he said with a pout.

She rolled her eyes, "Ok fine," she shot her foot out in front of him, making him trip onto the concrete, "but I get a head start!"

He watched her sprint off in front of him and grinned mischievously as he jumped up after her. They were only a couple of blocks from The House, and while he had the better stamina, he had to admit she was quick on her short but powerful legs. She rounded the corner of the driveway into the Opera House just as he caught up to her. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her onto the unmanicured lawn in the front of the building. She hit the ground hard and slid stomach first in the mud as he laid his weight down on top of her, forcing her face into the moist dirt.

"Get the fuck off of me!" she screamed, trashing her legs angrily while he laughed.

**['Kiss with a Fist' by Florence + The Machine]**

Bringing her elbow up swiftly behind her, she caught him in the jaw and sent him flying off of her. She threw her legs under her and bounced to her feet, but he swung his legs along the ground and knocked them back out from under her. Mid fall, she extended her spine and caught the ground with the palms of her hands, swinging her feet backward in the air and onto the muddy grass. Her boyfriend smiled at her and brought his knees to his chest before throwing them out and arching his spine, bringing him into standing. They danced around each other, covered in mud, and Joey pointed at the screen of the monitor from inside the warm building.

"It got fifty on Ms. Quinn", he mentioned to Mac who was discontentedly folding laundry.

He frowned at the screen and reached into the pile, pulling out a small pair of red lace panties, "Yo."

Joey grimaced at him, "Man, put those away!"

Harley swung a round house kick in The Joker's direction. He caught it and smacked the back of her head with his massive palm, pushing her face into the ground again. After he released her, she rolled onto her back and he quickly lay between her thighs, teasing her with a childish smile as he pinned her arms beside her. She pursed her lips at him and brought her legs up, locking them at the ankle on either side of his ribcage. She began to squeeze and he winced, breaking his hold on her arms to attempt at prying her legs from him.

"Harley", he whispered hoarsely, "My ribs…are gonna break."

She smiled triumphantly, "I know. Say it."

He struggled painfully, "Never."

She clenched tighter and he yelped, "Alright! You win!"

Her grip loosened and he fell onto her, catching his breath as the rain began to fall harder. He sat back on his elbow and slapped her with a smile which she returned with a backhand to his opposite cheek. They laughed and he settled comfortably between her legs, both covered in mud and soaking with cold water.

"Shower?" he asked in an insinuating manner as he pushed his pelvis into her, making her moan.

"So who won?" Mac asked.

"Hard to tell, but I think she may have made 'em cry 'Uncle' with her thighs o'death", Joey answered as he sat back in his chair, reading the news paper.

"I ain't payin' up if there wasn't a clear win", his friend stated, concentrating his folding chore on Ms. Quinn's undergarments.

Joey sat up in his chair, "They're comin' back in, put them panties n'shit away!"

The henchman quickly hid the folded clothes underneath a pile of loose ones inside the basket and continued to behave nonchalantly as he worked on a towel. The Joker entered the door into the foyer and walked over to them, dripping muddy water onto the marble floors; Mac cringed, knowing he would have to clean up the mess. His boss took the towel from him and continued walking back into his bedroom, reemerging with two robes and heading back toward the theater.

"We're going to the club tonight, Joey", he yelled back over his shoulder.

"Sure thing, Boss", the henchman answered.

"What's that mean?" Mac asked, retrieving the folded undergarments from the middle of the pile.

His friend sniffed and checked the monitors before returning to his paper, "The Boss n'Miss Quinn own a little establishment. Brings in some extra cash so we ain't gotta be runnin' heists every other month and can concentrate on other things."

Mac lifted an eyebrow, caressing the black silk of another pair of panties as he folded them gently in his hands, "What kind of _establishment_?"

Joey noticed his friend's handiwork and shook his head, "A strip club."


	6. Canoodling

_Dr. Harleen Francis Quinzel_

_Born: September 11, 1977_

_Education:_

_Bachelor of Science in Criminal Psychology - Gotham University; 1997; Summa Cum Laude_

_Doctor of Psychiatric Medicine - Gotham Medical University; 2001; Summa Cum Laude_

_Medical Residency Location: Arkham Asylum; 2001 – 2005_

_Employment Termination Date: 2005_

"Why, Harley?", Bruce whispered to himself in the darkness of his bedroom, lit only by the screen on his computer.

A pair of feminine hands slinked around the bare skin of his chest as moist lips planted soft kisses on his back, "Hey there, handsome, quit looking at pictures of other women and come back to bed."

He grabbed one of her hands and closed his eyes while the kisses traveled up his neck and reached the lobe of his ear, "You're gonna kill me, woman."

She smirked, "How are those ribs healing up?"

He straightened his torso and felt the slight tinge of pain that shot from the ribcage, "Should be good as new in a couple more weeks."

"Did they ever catch the guy who attacked you?" she asked, moving around him to sit on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her bare waist and glanced back at the screen, "No."

She reached around and clicked the monitor off.

"Hey!" he protested with a smirk.

"You work all the time and we never get to see each other, you're going to pay some attention to me tonight, Mr. Wayne", she demanded with a smile, stroking her hands through his hair in the dark.

"I thought that's what I've been doing for the last six hours."

Her smile faded and she placed her hands impatiently onto his shoulder, "Come on, Bruce, if we're going to make this work there has to be more to intimacy than just sex."

He sighed squeezed her waist, "Alright, like what?"

She tilted her brunette head in thought, "I'd settle for a movie in bed, at this point."

"Sounds good", he agreed, tapping her bottom for her to stand up, "I'll make us some hot chocolate."

She stood and kissed his shoulder, "Now we're talking!"

Bruce threw his robe around his shoulders and opened the door of his bedroom, walking into the hallway. His gait was normal again and the ribs were healing quickly, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen something new in his nemesis that night. The thought plagued him and cost him sleep. More importantly; he couldn't understand how an educated and highly intelligent woman like Harleen Quinzel could have ever joined ranks with a man like The Joker. It would have been much easier to write her off as a raving lunatic from a former street gang or weak-minded masochist with daddy issues, but his research had revealed otherwise. He shook his head as he descended the stairs into the foyer, headed for the kitchen. What did he know about feelings, anyhow? Brianna was admittedly nothing more than an unhealthy distraction which had stemmed from Alfred's incessant nagging for him to have a personal life. He doubted this was exactly what his butler had had in mind, but it satisfied both of them for the time being. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen doorway, he notice Alfred sitting at the long oval table; cup of tea in one hand, book in the other.

"You're up late, Alfred", he mentioned to him.

"I've found myself enthralled in a bit of a page turna', Suh", he answered without looking up, "How is Ms. Dodge this evening?"

Bruce was pouring the contents of two packets of instant hot chocolate into mugs and chuckled, "Uh, she's insisting that our intimacy venture outside the realm of the bed chamber. This is all your fault, you know."

"Sounds like a woman who isn't afraid to state what she wants. Perhaps that's what you need" he responded smugly from behind his book, taking a sip of hot tea.

Bruce filled the kettle with water and placed it on the burner to boil, "Speaking of strong-willed women, did you know Harleen Quinzel was The Joker's doctor at Arkham?"

"No, Suh, I must have missed that bit of information in the latest issue of _People_."

"Smart girl, too; she graduated with honors from both undergraduate and medical school, completed undergrad in just two years, and was the first student in history to be granted a residency position at Arkham before they hired her."

Alfred glanced at him from over his book, "I guess there's something to be said for evil geniuses."

"I guess so", Bruce responded as he poured the hot liquid into each of the mugs, "I just can't understand why. Why would she give it all up for someone like The Joker?"

"Are you still canoodling with the theory that her obvious affection is not quite so unrequited, Suh?"

Bruce grabbed the mugs and headed back for the staircase, "Canoodling is a good word for it."


	7. On The Rocks

Harley was putting the finishing touches on her makeup in the mirror of the 'Gentlemen' bathroom. The 'Ladies' was now designated as a walk-in closet where their suits hung, but the sink area was large enough for both of them to have plenty of room when getting ready for a job. Tonight wouldn't present a problem anyhow, since Harley would be the only one wearing actual makeup. They only wore their clown masks when terrorizing Gotham and attempted to keep a low profile when out on the town for pleasure. She was attired in a red cocktail dress that flattered her curvatious figure, and her hair was down in the 1930's style waves that her boyfriend liked. He walked by her to look into the mirror on his side of the long sink area and adjust his tie. His black suit was quite plain compared to the ones he usually wore, but it would allow them to enjoy the night undisturbed. He reached back and pulled his hair into a low ponytail before placing the black fedora on his head. Harley stared at him as she applied her red lipstick; he may have been nine years older than she, but to her, he only grew more attractive with each passing year.

He turned to look at her and his eyes immediately locked on her round bottom, "I like that dress."

She grinned smugly and replaced the cap on her lipstick as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, looking at her in the mirror.

"So, how was that shower for making it up to you, hm?" he asked.

She turned around and kissed him softly, "_Very_ satisfying."

"You were a dirty girl", he teased.

"How dirty?"  
He grabbed her tightly by the arm and growled as his switchblade flicked open, placing the sharp tip onto her bare neck, making her giggle.

"Car's ready, Boss", Joey's voice interrupted from the bedroom door.

"Alright, we'll be right there", his boss responded, "Ready, Princess?"

"Just need to get my coat."

Harley pushed open the door to the former 'Ladies' room and picked out a lavish, knee length, black fur coat. She handed it to her boyfriend who politely held it open for her as she slipped her arms inside the silk lining.

The leather seats of the black Cadillac were warm and 'Sweet Home Chicago' by Buddy Guy was playing softly through the speakers as The Joker hugged Harley close to his side in the back seat, concealed by the darkly tinted windows. Joey turned the wheel and rounded the next corner into the dark alleyway behind a large, two story building. The sign on the back door read;

_The Grin and Bare It_

and the soft thumping of music could be heard as Joey stepped out of the driver's seat and opened the passenger side door. The Joker climbed out first, adjusting his fedora low over is scared profile, and held out a gloved hand for Harley as she slid across the seat and stepped out into the chilly air. The back door to the building opened and the music spilled out while a large man in a black suit held it open for the approaching couple.

"Evnin', Sir, Miss", he greeted them over the loud music, "Mr. Nigma's already here, waitin' for ya in a VIP room."

The song 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails blared through the club as Harley and The Joker stepped through the doorway. The man in the black suit took her coat and led them up the stairs to the left and to the second floor where a VIP room rested, overlooking the stage room through a window lined with black leather booths and a large rectangular table. Leather bound chairs rested opposite the booths on the other side of the table, and Nigma rose from one to greet the couple as they were escorted into the room. He shook hands with The Joker and Harley kissed his cheeks before taking a seat into one of the booths as the stage lights flashed through the windows behind her. The Joker scooted into the booth next to Harley and removed his fedora, placing it on the table. A young, scantily dressed blonde entered the VIP room carrying a tray of drinks and began laying them on the table as she eyed The Joker seductively. He appeared not to notice as Nigma offered him a Cuban cigar that he inspected closely and lit with a lighter from his suit pocket, but Harley noticed. The woman bent over lower than was necessary to place his Jack and coke in front of him from across the table, and he finally glanced at her with a sideways grin. Harley felt her blood boil.

"Evnin' Mistah Jay", she cooed, hovering her cleavage above the table for much too long before standing back up.

"Evening, Ashley", he responded politely.

"Is there anythin' else I can do fa' you?" she asked sweetly, completely oblivious to Harley's hateful stare.

He waved his hand at her and smiled, "We're fine for now, thanks."

She smiled and turned to leave, making sure that her hips rocked to the rhythm of the music as she walked slowly away in her tall clear heels. Harley turned her head slowly toward her boyfriend, glaring through slitted lids and pursing her lips. He caught her stare out of the corner of his eye as he lifted his drink to his lips and coughed, spilling a few drops onto his suit which he brushed at nervously.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"_Ashley_?"

"She works here", he shrugged, "I don't get all huffy about you hangin' around the boys at The House all day do I?" he tried to sound confident as he unsuccessfully argued his point.

"The _boys_ don't bring me drinks dressed in slutty outfits that barley fit around their asses and cheaply made breasts!" She got up to follow Ashley though the door she had shimmied though, flicking open a switchblade as she crossed beneath the frame.

"Harley, Baby, come on!" The Joker chuckled after her as she stormed away.

He exchanged a glance with Nigma and leaned forward onto the table, holding his glass in his hand, "I think I may have just killed that girl", he admitted, taking a drink.

Nigma laughed and took a drink of his Crown and water, exchanging the glass on his lips with a puff of his cigar. The two men sat comfortably in their seats, enjoying their drinks and cigars as the music played behind them for a while. Harley returned with a martini glass in her hand and a satisfied grin on her face, pulling up a leather chair to take a seat next to Nigma.

"Are you seeing anyone yet, Eddie?" she asked him, wrapping her hand under his arm.

The Joker raised an amused eyebrow at her and rolled his eyes; she was trying to punish him, but Nigma wasn't a man he needed to worry about. He took another drink and laid his arm over the back of the leather bound booth, grinning smugly at his girlfriend who was still clearly perturbed with him.

"Not at the moment, Miss. Although, I have been meaning to enquire as to the status of your dear friend, Ms. Ivy", he answered.

"Ivy's not exactly the dating type, Ed, sorry."

"Not unless you're a tree or somethin'", The Joker quipped; she shot him an irritated glare, but he only winked at her.

Nigma shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I'd like to extend my appreciation for your consideration in sharing your business. I understand it has become quite successful in the last five years."

"We can't complain", The Joker answered humbly, "and I can't think of a better man for the job."

He raised his glass to him and the trio clinked their drinks together in the air. Harley looked over the top of her glass as she brought it to her lips and caught The Joker's stare. 'Sexy as Hell' by Sarah Connor began blaring over the speakers in the stage room and he lowered his glass to the table to take a puff of his cigar, eyes still locked on her. She sighed angrily at the irony of the situation and averted her eyes from him, still upset that he would dare look at another woman; even if she was now lying dead in the walk-in freezer of the kitchen downstairs. In seven years she had never seen him set eyes on anyone else, and it suddenly made her uneasy to think of how many times he had been at _The Grin and Bare It_ without her, because she trusted him.

Didn't she?

The other VIP rooms on the second floor where known for providing a little more than just one-on-one scantily clad company, and her stomach felt sick at the thought of her boyfriend and Ashley together in one of the dark rooms. She let her hand slip away from Nigma's arm and sat back solemnly into her leather seat, watching the olive float in her martini glass.

The hours passed as the men talked business and shared humorous stories about their encounters with The Batman, laughing and drinking heavily as the night went on. Harley drove herself crazy sitting and thinking over the horrifying possibility that the man she loved could have been unfaithful at one point, or many, during their long rocky relationship; it had always been on-again-off-again. What if he took advantage of the off-again points by indulging in casual meaningless sex with the young well endowed women who worked for him, and were clearly attracted to him? For the first time since Dr. Quinzel had died, she wanted to cry.

"Harley? You alright, Sugar?" The Joker's voice addressed her from across the table.

She looked up at him and his handsome features made the knife twist in her already aching stomach, "I…I don't feel well. I think I'll have Joey take me home." She stood from her chair and the two men, gentlemen that they were, stood with her.

The Joker threw his drink back and finished it, swaying slightly, "I'll come with you, Darlin'. Ed, I'll be seein' ya." He extended his hand and the two shook. Harley forced a polite grin and kissed their new partner on the cheek before starting for the door. As they descended the stairs, The Joker lost his footing and slipped down a few steps behind her, holding onto the railing to regain his composure.

He snickered drunkenly, "Shit, who moved the step?"

Normally, she would have laughed at his clumsy mishap, but her throat was aching as she held back tears. A different man in a black suit greeted them at the bottom and retrieved Harley's fur coat for her, helping her into it while she noticed The Joker's fedora laid cocked to the side on his head.

She smirked slightly and reached up to adjust it, "Who are you, Sinatra?"

"Well, the ladies do dig me", he quipped with a slur, and her smile faded.

Outside the building, The Joker held the car door open for Harley while she stepped inside and scooted across the warm leather. He sat next to her as Joey shut the door behind him and tried to put his arm around her, but she inched closer to the door, looking out the tinted window to hide her moist eyes. He released a sigh through his teeth and looked out the other window as the car began to move down the street.

"Is my age becoming a problem?" she asked, still staring out the window.

He looked at her, confused, "What?"

"My age; I'm not twenty-nine anymore."

He pointed a thumb in his chest, "I'm in my goddamn forties, what's your point?"

"Did you fuck her?"

The Joker gave her a disgusted glare, "Did you fuck Nigma?"

Her head snapped to him, "No! He was one of The Doctor's patients, you know that."

He leaned in close to her, "So was I, if you remember."

She squinted her eyes at him, "No, I didn't fuck him, and neither did Harleen or The Doctor."

He looked away from her to stare angrily at the road through the windshield.

"Answer the question, Joker", she only called him that in two situations; during heated passion or a heated argument, and they definitely were not having sex at that moment.

"No! I didn't fuck her! Neither did me or myself", he answered sarcastically, looking back into her eyes.

"Stop mocking me!"

"Well, quit actin' so damn crazy!"

She threw her hands in the air, "News flash! I _am_ crazy!"

He pointed a finger in her face, "Not anymore you're not, I fixed you, remember? You're just using it as an excuse to act like a jealous idiot!"

"Then tell me the truth!" the tears were breaking from her lids and streaming down her face, "I've been with you seven years, I know when you're hiding something; you get that lip-licking twitch that you use to have!"

The Joker let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, laying his head onto the back of the seat, "She gave me a lap dance, alright?" he answered softly and Harley's jaw clenched, "It was over a year ago, you had just left, I was upset, I met Croc at the club to have some drinks, and the girl gave me a lap dance. Nothing else happened, ok?"

Harley felt the tears become thicker as the nausea built in her stomach, "Joey, pull over!"

"Ignore her."

She leaned forward and beat her fist on the back on the leather passenger seat, "Stop-this-fucking-car!"

The Joker put a hand in her chest and pushed her back into the seat, "Sit back and shut up! You're pissin' me off!"

She pulled the handle and opened the back door, but her boyfriend reached across and grabbed her wrists, "Goddamnit, Harley, I'm not gonna fight with you about this! You're being stupid!"

"How am I suppose to know you won't do the same thing or worse every time we break up, huh?" she struggled in his grip, trying to fight the swooning sensation in her bloodstream.

He laughed, "We don't break up, we take a break, there's a difference."

"Well, then maybe we need to!" she yelled at him, and his smile faded.

He glared at her, but she could see the hurt in his eyes, "Is that what you really want, Harley?"

She knew it wasn't, but she was so furious with him, so jealous, so betrayed. She could never dream of even looking at another man, even when they were on their 'breaks', and it tore her up inside to think of him sitting underneath a half naked woman while she suffered the agony of separation from him. What had he done to distract himself for the three months that she had been locked in Arkham three years ago? So many uncertain questions floated in her brain, and she couldn't dull them out no matter how hard she tried.

He maintained eye contact with her as he spoke to his driver, fingers still digging into her wrists, "Joey, pull over."

**['One of These Mornings' by Moby]**

His henchman complied and she felt her heart sink into her stomach. The Joker opened the car door on his side and stepped out, dragging her out behind him and pushing her into the street. They exchanged a quick glance before he disappeared back inside the car and slammed the door shut while the car sped away. She wanted to chase after him, but her pride wouldn't let her, and she stood under the flickering streetlight sobbing as the sadness took her and the withdrawal set in.

"Hey baby, if he don't want you, I'll take you home", a male voice shouted from across the street where a young thug stood with two of his buddies, cackling like fools.

Harley's crying ceased as she looked over at him, fury fuming from her pores. She began to walk toward him, swaying her hips seductively with a sinister smile. He smiled at her while his buddies elbowed him jokingly and hooted. She approached him and gracefully lifted a hand to lay on the back of his head just as she brought the switchblade up into his abdomen. The thug whimpered and bent over, clutching his stomach as his fickle companions retreated in terror. Harley removed the knife and stuck him a second time, then a third, a fourth, soon she lost count as the warm blood spilled over her hand and she smiled fiendishly. He toppled over to the ground and she quickly rolled him onto his back with her foot, staring down into his frightened eyes.

She bent down and hovered over him with the blade in her hand, "Didn't your Mama ever teach you how to speak to a lady?"

Tears slid down the sides of his face as she grabbed his jaw and yanked it open, exposing the moist muscle inside, "What's the matter, Sugar?" she whispered, " Harley got your tongue?"

The Joker stared angrily out the tinted passenger window, clinching his fists as the black Cadillac drove down the abandoned blocks to the Opera House. His outward composure was one of obvious irritation, but inside, he was screaming in agony.

"Turn around!" he shouted to his driver.

"Yes, Sir", Joey said, turning the wheel and pulling the car into a U-turn.

After a few minutes, the car was skirting onto the street where The Joker had left Harley, but she was gone. He sat forward and observed the bloody mess on the sidewalk as they passed by the thug she had murdered.

"Want me to let you out here so's you can look for her, Boss?" Joey asked, looking back into his rearview mirror.

The Joker cracked his knuckles, "No, take me back to the club."

His henchman made an expression of surprise, "Yes, Sir."

The car pulled to a hault in the alleyway behind the _Grin and Bare It_, and Joey stepped out to open the door for his boss, but he had already leapt from the car and was striding quickly to the back door of the building; he pounded his fist into it and it swung open for him.

"Mr. Joker, did you forget somethin', Sir?" the man in the black suit asked.

He pushed past him, heading up to the VIP floor and the man followed him. He pushed open the first door he came to and turned on the dim light of the small room that housed a canopy bed covered in red silk sheets and a large armless chair.

"Bring me one of the girls", he demanded and the man nodded, turning to leave quickly.

The Joker threw his fedora onto the chair and paced in the room. After a few minutes, a tall brunette entered the doorway, dressed in even less than Ashley had been wearing.

"Hey, Mistah Jay", she smiled sweetly at him, shutting the door behind her.

He looked over at her and traced her mostly naked body with his eyes while a sadistic smile spread across his scared face, "Hello there", he greeted her darkly, flicking open his switchblade.


	8. Solace

**Poison Ivy/Pamela Isley: Christina Hendricks**

**I admit to stealing the Mickey Mouse idea from a picture I found online that just had me rolling on the floor. Had to use it :)**

* * *

"_Why so serious, there, Jackie boy?" Tom asked him from the driver's seat, looking at him through the rearview mirror._

_Jack shot him a hateful glare; he had been betrayed, this was his closest friend or he had thought that he was. _

_Tom chuckled and looked back to the road, "You gotta learn ta lighten up, man, smile more. I'm doin' you a solid by includin' you in this job."_

"_You lied to me", Jack retorted darkly._

"_Look, Kid", Tom continued, "You came to _me_ askin' for help, remember? It ain't my fault you knocked up your little girlfriend."_

"_You said you'd help me earn some extra cash, you never said anything about turning me into a goddamned criminal. What if we get caught? Who in the hell's gonna take care of Jeannie and my boy, huh? We got nothin' and nobody since we left New Orleans."_

_Tom gave him a warning stare through the mirror, "You'd better hope none of us gets caught tonight, Jackie, or I will make sure she's…taken care of."_

_Jack felt his stomach turn over as the other two men in the car laughed maliciously._

"Hey, man", someone was shaking his arm, "Joker."

His head shot up from the table and he wiped the drool from his scar as the base from the music beat a hammer into his skull. Squinting, he looked up at Nigma who was standing over him next to the table in the VIP room where the three of them had sat only hours before.

"They found your handiwork in the other room. I may be new at this business, but won't it be hard to make money if you and Harley keep killing off all the employees that the paying customers come to see?" Nigma asked him with a half smile, taking a seat across the table from him.

The Joker rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, "There's always girls willin' to take their clothes off for cash in this city. That's why we chose to open a strip club."

_We; it was Harley's idea, damnit._

His stomach ached with the combination of too much liquor and the realization that he would have to go to bed without her tonight. Did he kick her out or did she leave? He could never tell anymore, and it infuriated him that they were still playing these stupid games after all these years. He picked up a few of the many empty glasses on the table to check for one that might still hold a bit of Jack and coke.

"Little bitch can stay gone", he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothin'", he slurred, attempting to stand on his swaying limbs. Nigma caught him by the arm and tried to hold him steady but he tore it quickly from his grasp, knocking himself off balance so he fell back into the leather chair.

"You alright, Joker?" his partner asked.

He tried to stand again and stumbled into the wall behind him, "I'm fine, don't touch me!" Staggering, he exited the room and started down the stairs, clutching the railing tightly while the stairs danced wildly in his blurry vision. He reached the bottom step and the man in the black suit opened the door for him. Nigma followed him outside and waved an arm to Joey sitting in the car in the alleyway as The Joker tripped and fell to the cold concrete and Joey rushed over, wrapping his arms under his.

"You alright, Boss?" he asked, helping him to his feet.

"I said I'm fine!" his boss yelled, shoving him back and walking in an unsteady gait toward the car.

His henchman hurried around him and opened the back door for him to slide inside. He and Nigma exchanged a glance as he shut the door and turned to enter the driver's seat. The car jolted softly and started down the dark alleyway and The Joker lay down in the back seat, resting an arm over his eyes, trying to hold his spinning world steady as he inhaled the lingering scent of Harley's sweet perfume.

Ivy was lounging comfortably on her stack of hemp pillows that lay in a corner of the abandoned green house that she called home, reading an electronic book, and sipping hot tea. There was a soft knock at the door and she glanced up at it. There was only one person she knew of that would dare set foot on the toxic grounds where she lived, and she rolled her eyes with a grin as she stood to answer the door.

"You could visit even when you're _not_ fighting, you know?" she said as she opened the door for a distraught-looking Harley.

Ivy's smile dissolved when she noticed the tears that mingled in her friend's smeared mascara. In the seven years she had known her, and through the dozens of breakups that she and her distasteful boyfriend had been through, never once had she seen her cry.

"Harley, Honey, what's wrong?" she reached out a gentle hand to place on her back, guiding her inside.

_Oh dear, the asshole finally got himself killed didn't he?_

Harley buried her face into Ivy's neck and released a shaking sob while her friend wrapped her arms around her and rubbed her back softly.

"I…I left him for good…not…not going back…this time", she cried.

Ivy released a quiet sigh of relief; she may have had an underlying level of hatred for her friend's useless boyfriend, but she would never want her to suffer the agony of his untimely death. A small smile spread back across her face as she rubbed her back, "So, how long do you think it will take for him to come get you? Do we have time to have some dinner and catch up?"

Harley pushed back on her and looked up into her green eyes, "He can fuck off if he comes to get me! I…I hate him!"

Ivy's brows furrowed, "What did he do to you?"

Her overwrought friend walked over to her pile of pillows and crashed down into them, pulling one over her head, "He's a lying, cheating, son-of-a-bitch!" she yelled from underneath.

The redhead sat down next to her, "He cheated on you? When?" It was a hard pill to swallow; The Joker was an asshole, but he loved his Harley, even Ivy knew that.

"Probably every chance he got…oh GOD!" her body shook in the pillows again as she wailed.

"Start from the top, Sweetie. Tell me what happened."

Harley sat up and hugged a pillow to her chest, "He let one of those sluts from the club rub her filthy crotch on him one night when we were separated."

"He slept with her?" Ivy was shocked.

Harley sniffed and wiped her eyes, shaking her head, "He says he didn't, but how do I know he hasn't been fucking every girl in the place behind my back?"

"So, you don't know that he's actually _cheated_ on you?"

Harley shrugged.

"Sweetie," Ivy stroked her hair, "I think you're blowing this out of proportion. You two own a strip club, did you really think he wouldn't actually use the services you provide to the public, I mean, he is a man."

"He's _my_ man!", Harley yelled, throwing a fist into her own chest.

"I know, but just because he let a girl do her job one time doesn't mean he took it a step further. It doesn't even mean he does it all the time. Do you know of any other times?"

The blonde sulked silently for a moment, "I… I didn't ask, I was so _angry_ with him."

"See? I'll bet this was just a stupid, meaningless, single event that happened one night when he was thinking more with one head than the other. They can only use one at a time, ya know?"

Harley smirked, "Maybe…but I'm still not going back! If he wants me, he can come get me! I deserve an apology."

"I'm certain he will", Ivy assured her, "You hungry?"

She shook her head and sniffed.

Her nurturing friend put an arm around her, "It's going to be just fine, Honey, this is just another one of your little spats and you'll be back home before tomorrow night. Personally, I don't know how you put up with it."

"It's just us, I guess", Harley smiled, laying her head onto her friend's shoulder.

"HAR-LEY!" The Joker's voice rang through the foyer and echoed off the high ceiling.

Mac looked up from his book, feet propped on the table where the security monitors rested, "She ain't here, Boss. I thought she was with you."

Joey tried to cut him off with sign language, but he had already spoken. The Joker pulled his gun quickly from inside his suit coat and shot it toward the henchman's head, narrowly missing him in his drunken stupor. The bullet ricocheted off the wall as Mac fell backward in his chair, hitting his head on the marble floor. He lay there in shock and watched his boss' feet stagger past him from under the table. Luckily, he continued to walk and disappeared through the door to the Cigar Lounge.

Joey walked up next to his friend and extended an arm, "I told you ta keep your damn trap shut, man, it's gonna get your stupid ass shot!"

"What the hell happened?" Mac asked him, taking his hand and standing to his feet.

"What d'ya think happened?"

"She left him again?" his spirits soared slightly.

Joey picked up the chair and set it back up alongside the table to take a seat and remove his gloves "And don't even think about mentioning her 'till she's back under this roof; until she's back, she don't exist, got it?"

Inside the Cigar Lounge, The Joker switched on the light and glanced at the bed; empty. Bud and Lou saw him come in and hurried over to greet him. "Go lay down!" their master demanded, pointing toward their floor beds, and they slunk back to their spot. He grumbled under his breath and shut his eyes, feeling the sickness rise up in his chest. He stumbled to the bathroom as quickly as he could and slammed open one of the stall doors to hang his head in the porcelain bowl, retching violently. After a few minutes, his stomach felt relieved but his head was still spinning. He braced himself against the walls of the stall and slowly stood to his feet before shuffling slowly to the sink to rinse out his mouth. Harley's makeup still lay across the counter of the sink area and he stared at it as he splashed cold water into his mouth and on his face. He thought of her crying face, makeup smudged under her beautiful blue eyes as she stared at him in the back seat of the car while he confessed his mistake to her. It made his stomach ache again; he hadn't seen her cry in seven years.

Lifting his head, he caught his reflection in the mirror, "You're one sorry bastard", he told himself.

It _had_ been a mistake. True, he was upset with her for leaving, and he had had quite a bit to drink, but he could have easily stopped it from happening. Croc had called it a night and left him sitting in the VIP room, alone with his thoughts, rotating his empty glass in circles on the table. Ashley came in to check on him and bring him another drink.

"_Everythin' alright, Mistah Jay?" she asked._

_He looked up at her briefly, then back down at his drink, "You women are complicated as hell, you know that?" She approached him in his peripheral vision and stood close to his knees where he sat, slumped into his chair._

"_Not all of us are complicated, Mistah Jay, you just gotta pick a girl that knows what her man needs", she said seductively._

_He looked up at her and she lifted a long leg over his torso to straddle him, grabbing his tie and removing his fedora. She smiled and began rocking her body to the rhythm of the music, and for a second he did think about pushing her off, but Harley was gone and he didn't see what was wrong with a little distraction from his thoughts. She placed his fedora on her head and reached behind her back to unclasp the sequined bra and pull it off. He laid his head back onto the chair and thought about the fact that he had never found fake breasts to be very attractive. Her abdomen was soft and lacked muscular definition, her legs were too skinny, and her bottom was hard and bony; it dug into his thighs uncomfortably while she grinded into his lap. As the song ended, Ashley let her lips drift closer and closer to his, but he pulled away from her at the final second. _

"_Is there anythin' else I can do fa' you?" she asked staring into his eyes, "I'll do…anythin' you want."_

_He couldn't have even if he had wanted to; his body didn't react to her in the way that it did to Harley. All he wanted was his Clown Princess, and this whole thing had only made him want her even more._

Staring in the mirror, he now realized he should have told her that, but it was too late. He pulled off his suit coat and shuffled to his desk chair, laying the coat across it before flopping down into it as he stared over at Harley's desk. The holidays were quickly approaching, and terrorizing Gotham just wouldn't be the same without her. He smirked as he recalled the gift she had gotten for him last Christmas; she had replaced the bat figure on the bat signal with a Mickey Mouse symbol and switched it on for all of Gotham to amuse at. It had made headline news and pictures were plastered all over the papers. It was a real riot, and The Joker found himself chuckling in his throat as he remembered the image in his head. No one got him the way she did, so why the hell couldn't he seem to be able to hang onto her for more than a few months at a time? She had wanted to 'break up', did she mean it or was this just another 'break'? How long would it last? Would she come home or would he have to go and get her? Would she even come back with him? He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before pushing himself up to stand, still swaying slightly as he walked over to the bed. The covers were still disheveled from when they had woken up a few hours earlier, and though he knew it was too early for bed, he didn't want to be awake any longer. He crawled across it slowly and lay on his stomach, clutching Harley's pillow to his face.

"So what'd he do to 'er?" Mac asked Joey from across the table.

"Mind your own business."

He threw his cards on the table, "Gah! You're such a fuckin' teacher's pet!"

His friend leaned forward and stuck a thumb at his chest, "I'm still alive 'cause I know how to live with those two lunatics. It ain't about bein' a kiss ass, it's about knowin' how to act to survive. You're ass'd be dead right now if The Boss weren't so damn drunk, he never misses a shot sober."

Mac rolled his eyes and sneered, picking up his scattered hand of cards as Joey settled back into his chair, satisfied that he had made his point. The recruit looked down at his cards in silence and fought the urge to smile. He was getting tired of walking on eggshells in this place, but it didn't matter; Harley wouldn't be coming back, and soon, neither would he.


	9. Doppelganger

**Dr. Jeremiah Arkham: David Tennant**

"Mornin', Mr. Wayne", the Arkham guard greeted him as he approached the gates in his new BMW.

"Good Morning, I have an appointment with Dr. Arkham", he replied.

"Yes, Sir, he's expectin'you", the guard pulled the lever inside the shack and the gates swung open slowly, "Have a nice day, Sir."

"Thank you, you too."

Bruce drove slowly onto the grounds of the Asylum and pulled the car into a 'guest parking' space in the front of the building. As he turned the key to cut the engine, Dr. Arkham pushed through the security doors and walked in his direction with a pleasant smile. Bruce had felt he was a bit of an intolerable ass-kisser since he had decided to invest in Arkham security and become a stakeholder of the facility, but he imagined that it was better than the alternative; he could be an ass-_hole_.

"Good morning, good morning, Mr. Wayne! How are you today, Sir?" The doctor extended a friendly hand as Bruce exited his vehicle and straightened his suit coat, accepting his hand in a polite shake.

"I'm just fine, thank you", he shut the door and beeped the security locks while the two men climbed the steps to the front entrance.

"I assume you're here to see how our new security set up is functioning?" Dr. Arkham enquired, "I'd like to thank you for providing the Wayne Tech system for our facility, it has been quite a change from the old 'lock and key' method, but we are adjusting just fine."

They entered the building into the large main hall with its high ceiling and dark brick walls that were lined on either side with the 'high profile' inmate cells. Both The Joker and Harley Quinn had been kept in those cells multiple times in the last seven years, but each time, had somehow managed to escape. Bruce had decided to step in after Harley's last disappearance and integrate a newer security system into the old facility, which he hoped would keep the two criminals locked away for good once they were captured once more. Rather than the old fashioned method of 'lock and key', the reinforced glass on the front of each cell now functioned with a hydraulic sliding mechanism controlled by a touch screen panel located next to it. In order to activate the door, not only would one need to slide an approved identification card, but they would also have no more than five seconds to punch in the appropriate six digit security code unique to each badge. Finally, the person would be prompted to scan the finger print of their right thumb; it was admittedly complicated, but necessary.

"Of course", the doctor continued, "we haven't exactly been able to test the system with those who might be able to elude it such as Patients 666 and 667, but it is our hope that once they are returned, there will be no need to worry about their escape."

"666 and 667, those are The Joker and Harley Quinn, are they not?" Bruce asked.

"Oh, uh, yes sir, forgive me, I've become so accustomed to-"

"-It's fine, I was just confirming."

Dr. Arkham nodded and chuckled nervously as they headed toward the North exit of the building, "I have often wondered if the old system might have been able to hold them if they were only locked away simultaneously."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, the two have never been at the facility at the same time, and thus, have always been able to free one another. I wonder if things might be different if they were here together. It was never confirmed, but it has been speculated that it was Dr. Quinzel who actually helped him escape the first time, and we know for a fact that it was she who did so the second time. Since then, they have been breaking one another out within five months of being incarcerated despite our exhaustive efforts to keep them contained."

"They're a slippery couple, let's hope this system works", Bruce replied.

When they reached the North end of the building, the doctor swiped his card into the computerized panel located next to the large metal door. He punched in his six digit code quickly and placed his right thumb on the screen to be scanned. After a moment, green letters flashed on the screen;

_Dr. Jeremiah Arkham: Code Accepted_

The door clicked and he pulled it open politely for the billionaire stakeholder. On the other side, a large green lawn was encased within a perimeter of high fencing and guards at every corner.

"As you can see, we have replaced the former barbed wire barriers that follow along the top of the fencing with your electric razor wiring", the doctor explained, gesturing to metallic coils above.

Bruce was pleased with the functioning of the advanced security devices used at the Asylum, and itched at the prospect of finally bringing The Joker and his girlfriend to justice for good, but that wasn't why he was here today.

"I'd like to speak with you along, if I could, please", he mentioned.

Dr. Arkham looked surprised, "Uh, absolutely, Sir. We'll go up to my office."

The pair reentered the building and took the elevator in the main hall up to the top floor where the physician offices were located. The doctor escorted him to a door on the far right end of the large hallway and completed the necessary security steps to open the door; even the offices were heavily guarded.

"That reminds me, Mr. Wayne, we have completed our transition into electronic documentation as you suggested", he mentioned as his thumb was scanned and the door clicked open.

_Good, that makes my job easier._

Dr. Arkham opened the door and walked around to sit behind his oak desk in the large office, gesturing to a leather chair sitting in front of it, "Please, take a seat. What may I help you with, Sir?"

Bruce lowered himself into the comfortable chair and adjusted his suit coat as he brought an ankle to rest over his knee, "I had hoped you might be able to assist me in some research I've been doing that might help to better secure this facility and prepare it for the inevitable return of patients...666 and 667, as you call them."

"Well, uh, I'll certain try, Sir."

"Harley Quinn; it has recently come to my attention that she was actually The Joker's psychiatrist during his initial stay here at Arkham."

The doctor rolled his eyes, "Unfortunately, that is true."

Bruce picked up a pen from the desk and rolled it between his fingers, "Extremely intelligent young lady as I understand it."

"She definitely believed herself to be."

Bruce sniffed, "It makes one wonder why she would sacrifice a promising career for a man such as The Joker, and a patient no less. It's not exactly a character flaw one would expect from such a sophisticated personality."

Dr. Arkham appeared confused, "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"She has been treated here a number of times since she joined him, correct?" Bruce asked him, still staring at the pen, "The warden at Blackgate felt she would be better suited for this facility rather than the women's penitentiary where she was initially sent, so I wonder, what exactly _is_ her diagnosis?"

The doctor shifted nervously, "Mr. Wayne, I do wish I could help you, but I am under the obligations of law not to provide that kind of confidential patient information; HIPPA laws strictly prohibit it."

He replaced the pen onto the desk and smiled at the uneasy doctor, "I understand. I just believe it may be of use from an engineering perspective if we could better understand the minds of these two criminals."

"I absolutely agree, but unfortunately-"

"Not to worry, I'm sure what we have in place is sufficient."

Dr. Arkham looked relieved for a moment and checked his watch, "I apologize that I must cut our time short, Mr. Wayne, but I am late for a meeting."

The men rose from their seats, the doctor opened the office door for him, and they started for the elevators.

The doctor pressed the 'down' button and the two waited in awkward silence for a moment before Bruce asked, "Dr. Arkham, could you direct me to the men's room before I leave, please? I can show myself out of the facility."

"Oh of course, Sir, you may use the physician's restroom there at the end of the hall. Thank you for coming to visit us, and do stop by whenever you feel it is necessary."

They shook hands as the elevator doors opened and the doctor stepped quickly inside, pressing a couple of buttons rapidly before the doors slid shut again. Bruce turned to observe the large empty hallway and returned quickly to the door of Dr. Arkham's office. He glanced around to ensure that he was alone and pulled a white card from inside his suit coat pocket, swiping it easily into the computer panel. He clicked the touch screen six times and placed his thumb on the monitor which soon read;

_Skeleton Key: Code Accepted_

The door clicked and he turned the handle quietly to step inside. Pulling a small junk drive from inside his other pocket, he walked over to the computer and tapped the 'Enter' button to awaken the monitor. Blue artificial light filled the dim room as the desktop appeared on the screen and Bruce shook his head.

"No password protection, Doctor?"

He inserted the junk drive into the closest USB port and directed the mouse onto the 'Patient Files' folder, clicking twice. The folder opened a white panel of even more folders and he scanned them alphabetically to arrive at 'Q'. The archive for 'Harleen Quinzel/Harley Quinn' was fourth down on the list and he placed the pointer on top to save a copy to his junk drive before ejecting it and shutting off the screen.

Later that evening, Bruce sat on his kind sized, four-poster bed and scanned through the electronic documentation he had stolen from Dr. Arkham on his laptop;

_Patient #: 667, Name: Harleen Frances Quinzel, Alias: Harley Quinn, Known Accomplices: The Joker_

_Psychiatric Diagnosis: Dissociative Identity Disorder_

A mug shot of Harley was available within the folder, and he clicked it to reveal the typical two-profile view of the Arkham inmate. Her hair was in styled in the usual low braided pigtails, and the black grease paint diamonds which covered each eye were smudged and running down her face in streaks as she smiled cheekily at the camera. He thought it looked more like a demented second grade yearbook picture than a mug shot. Just underneath was the image of her former physician identification badge, and he suddenly recognized her. He had encountered her very briefly seven years ago when he returned The Joker to the Asylum, beaten to a pulp. A smirk escaped his lips, it had felt good to lay into him the way he had, although he admitted that it was probably an unnecessary amount of force. As he remembered it, she was not at all pleased with the condition of her patient and had confronted him in the main hall, as The Batman, of course.

He closed the pictures and looked again at the diagnosis, "Dissociative Identity Disorder", he muttered out loud to himself.

"I beg your pardon, Suh?" Alfred had entered the room, carrying a fresh stack of clean towels to the master bathroom.

"Alfred, do you know anything about Dissociative Identity Disorder?" he asked him, still looking at the screen.

"Formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder, I believe, Suh. Otha' than that…", he gave a small shrug, "Self diagnosing again are we? I've told you about that."

Bruce chuckled, "No, no. It's in Harley Quinn's patient file as _her_ diagnosis."

He scrolled down to the 'Physician's Notes' as his butler approached to bend down and glance at the screen, "Looks like Dr. Arkham tried to treat her himself when she was first brought in to the facility, but she attacked him. Since then, a Dr. Joan Leland has been working with her on and off between escapes, and feels that she may only have a mild form of the disease and shows great potential for rehabilitation if they could just hang onto her for more than a few months at a time," he scrolled further and read another section of the note that was written more recently, " It says here that she believes 'Harley' may actually be one of Harleen's alternate personalities, and that they have been able to make contact with Harleen herself with use of hypnotic therapies."

Alfred stood up straight, "I believe that you may have stumbled upon the answer to your question, Suh."

"Hm?", Bruce asked, half listening as he read on.

"How a woman like _her_ could possibly love a man like _him_", he explained, "Perhaps it is not _she_ who actually loves him at all. Although, it does appear lately that _he_ has reciprocated the intense infatuation for her chaotic and equally sadistic alternate personality."

"Yes", Bruce looked up from his computer, "I wonder…I wonder how The Joker would take it…if she were cured."


	10. Balthazar

"_Dgeenie? Mnm!", he tried to cry for her while keeping the corners of his throbbing mouth closed as tight as possible, "Dgeenie!"_

_Why didn't she answer? He was beginning to panic as he moved through the house, which only made his cheeks bleed more. He could feel it tricking down his chin and neck, soaking into the white shirt under his suit. It must have been a lot of blood he was losing; he was beginning to feel dizzy and slightly cold in his extremities, but he had to find her. He had to find his wife. _

"_Dgeenie, p'ease a'swer me", he pleaded painfully, but there was still no answer._

_Bedroom, living room, kitchen; all vacant. He retreated back to the bedroom to check one more room that he had overlooked. The door to the bathroom stood ajar on the other side of the bedroom door, and he rounded the corner to look inside. He immediately crashed backward into the wall and felt the hot tears pour from his eyes, widened in horror. The fleshy stitching of coagulated blood that had formed along his face ripped apart as he screamed out in agony._

The Joker threw his head up from the pillow, still screaming. He was panting heavily and reached quickly up to wipe the moisture from his face and stare at it in his trembling hand; it was clear. His current reality set in and he sat up on the edge of the sweat-soaked bed, leaning over to rest his head in his hands and still struggling to breathe steadily. After a few minutes, the trembling decreased in frequency and his breathing rate slowed to normal. The nightmares were always much worse when Harley was gone, and she had been gone for two long days now. It was by no means the longest amount of time they had been separated, but it had become increasingly difficult for him to avoid retrieving her in the last few years. He had told himself that, this time, _she_ would have to come home to _him; _she had insulted him with her accusations, and he deserved an apology. Still, it was difficult, and he secretly wished she would get a move on the situation.

He switched on the lamp and glanced at her empty side of the bed with a squint. Grumbling and fingering at his scars, he rose to his feet and gently patted his pets who were greeting him with eager licks on his way to the restroom. The lights in the bathroom tore through his sleepy vision, and he stood at the sink for a moment to adjust, splashing cold water on his face. Looking up into the mirror, he turned his head side to side and observed the puckered scars that etched from the corners of his mouth nearly to the end of his jaw. One was a relatively clean line, the other had slight curve to it at the tip; they had enjoyed forcing an everlasting smile onto his serious face that night. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the images away.

Mac and Joey sat at their usual post in the foyer, playing cards to pass the time while Sean and Dan, who had just gotten off duty, played games on the new television against the opposite wall. The door to the Cigar Lounge swung open and the two African beasts emerged, followed closely by a fully dressed and exhausted-looking Joker.

"Joey", he addressed his henchman.

"Yes, Sir."

"I need to pay Louis a visit, couple of my coats have holes in them."

Joey laid his cards down and immediately took off toward the doorway beside the stairs, "Sure thing, Boss."

Mac avoided eye contact with his boss as he passed and disappeared into the theater. He watched the monitors as the black Cadillac pulled out of the parking garage and down the street in front of the Opera House before rising to his feet.

"Hey, man, you ain't suppose to leave your post when there ain't no one else there ta look after it", Sean called after him while he retrieved a laundry basket from just inside the banquet hall.

Mac shot him an annoyed glare, "_You_ wanna wash the boss' boxers?"

"I did my fair share already, I'm just tryin' ta keep you outta trouble. Do whatever you want", Sean shrugged as he returned to his game.

The new recruit walked quickly into the Cigar Lounge and pushed open the door to the former 'Ladies' room where Harley and The Joker's suits were hanging. He hastily pulled down a few random garments that he felt his boss wouldn't miss along with a pair of feminine leather boots that sat on the floor and shoved them all into the basket before returning to the bedroom and approaching the dresser. He pulled open the drawers to Harley's garments and grabbed a few of each, shutting the drawers quietly behind him. As he looked up, he noticed the very expensive-looking bejeweled rose that rested on top of the wooden furniture. He wasn't aware of its background story, nor its sentimental value, but he was certain that it had been a very special gift from The Joker to Harley. Checking behind him, he grabbed it from the dresser top and shoved it underneath the clothes in the basket before exiting the room.

"I'm gonna start a load real quick, is that ok with you?" he asked Sean as he passed by and made his way to the doorway next to the stairs.

"Whatever, man", Sean replied.

As he reached the doorway, Mac looked back to ensure that the other two henchmen were distracted, and instead of heading down the carpeted slope to the shower room where the washer and dryer were, he quietly opened the door to the theater and stepped inside. When he reached his white Honda in the parking garage outside, he pressed the button on his keychain to pop the trunk and shoved the basket inside next to an empty suitcase he had brought from his apartment. Tonight was his last night on duty, and he would be allowed to leave The House for a few days. He closed the trunk and hurried back inside to wait innocently at his security station for Joey and The Boss to return.

"Harley, Honey, you look like a cat", Ivy said sympathetically to her friend who was perched atop a table in a window of the green house where her plants once rested.

She had been sitting like that for nearly two whole days, leaving her vigilant post only to use the restroom or obtain nourishment which she brought back to the window with her. Twirling strands of hair with one hand, her shoulders would shrug involuntarily and spastically at random; a nervous twitch she had developed, though not sure where or why.

Harley released as frustrated sigh, "Why is he being an ass?"

"Maybe he's saying the same thing about you", her friend smirked as she watered her plants, "Why don't you help me water? It'll take your mind off of things."

The blonde pulled her eyes from the window to look at her friend, and finally slid off of her spot on the table to pick up a can of water. 'Greenhouse' was an understated descriptor when it came to this massive building; it was more like a glass mansion that had been built onto to provide a living area which blocked out the harsh sunlight during the midday hours. The humidity was almost unbearable for Harley during the summer heat, but during the chillier months, like now, it was really quite pleasant. The task of watering each of the hundreds of plants would indeed provide her with an activity for the next couple of hours at least. She had suggested that her friend install an irrigation system, but she insisted that the plants thrived on the personal attention. It was dark outside now, and the two women worked quietly by the artificial light powered by the electricity that Harley had connected to the abandoned greenhouse a few years ago. It rested on a toxic waste area which would be deadly to most normal people, but Ivy had developed an anti-serum to all toxic poisons which she derived from her precious plants, and of course, had shared it with her best friend. It was the perfect hideout for a woman like Poison Ivy. Once the watering was finished, Ivy returned to her built-on living quarters to prepare a raw vegan dinner for the two of them while Harley stared desperately out her window, twitching every so often.

Joey and The Joker returned to The House a few hours after they had left, and Mac sat patiently at his post as his friend approached to take his seat across the table from him while their boss retreated quietly to his room and closed the door.

"He sure is sulkin' for a guy who treats her like shit most'a the time", Mac mentioned.

Joey propped his feet onto the table and twisted the top off a bottle of soda, "Don't try an' pretend like you know them, Mac", he took a swig and burped, "The Boss, he loves Miss Quinn in his own fucked up way."

Mac snorted.

"Alright, alright, Idunno if 'love' is a good word for it, but he sure as hell cares about her. _That_ I know for sure."

Inside the Cigar Lounge, The Joker removed his suit coat and draped it over the back of his desk chair before taking a seat. He would get some work done tonight and distract his mind for a few hours. Maybe she would walk through the door at any minute, maybe he would have to go get her tomorrow. Either way, he didn't want to think about it anymore. The hours ticked slowly by as he scribbled, erased, calculated, and finally began mixing chemical properties in his make-shift chemistry laboratory that was once a martini bar. The Annual Christmas Charity Ball and Auction was quickly approaching, and Harley or no Harley, he was going to crash the party. They had planned it for months, and it was a sure fire way to attract the attention of The Bat and have a little chaotic holiday fun, although it would be admittedly even more fun with his Clown Princess shooting rich conservative-types at his side. Sometimes he would make a wise crack in the heat of the battle that only she would laugh at because his henchmen were too idiotic to comprehend his comedic genius. He dropped a small amount of liquid into a vial and sighed to himself as he covered the hole with his thumb and shook it vigorously.

"_Well, would ya look at that; 'Jack Napier: Chemical Engineer'", Tom read the writing on his office door out loud as they passed, "What the hell you need us for, Jackie, can't make no money as a hot-shot with a college degree?"_

"_Can we just get this over with, Please?" Jack snapped back at him._

_The three men snickered as they followed him through the Ace Chemical Plant where he worked. If they were caught, Jack would lose everything; his job, his degree, his freedom, his wife and child…everything. He hated Tom for his betrayal, he had never wanted this. Jeannie had become pregnant in their first four months of dating and he wanted nothing more than to do right by her, be a man, take care of his family. So, they married and left their home in New Orleans to relocate for Jack's new job, and hopefully a better life, but Gotham City was not an easy place to make ends meet and they were soon strapped for money. What was even worse was the fact that it had been discovered that Jeannie was now a high risk pregnancy who should have never conceived, and the doctor's bills were piling up._

"_We there yet or what, kid?" Tom asked impatiently._

"_Almost, the card company is just through the wall on the other side over there. I still don't understand why the hell you'd wanna raid a place that makes damn playing cards."_

"_Do you know how many casinos Cobblepot has in this city, boy? With all the money he makes and spends on supplies, they're sure to have a fortune stashed in that place."_

_Jack grimaced and turned to face them, "They'll have a secure banking location where they keep the money, you lunatic! You're not just gonna bust in and find stacks of cash lying around. Who planned this goddamn operation, Mickey Mouse?"_

_Tom pointed a gun in his face and pulled out his cell phone, "I'd keep my smart southern trap shut if I were you, Jackie. Just keep leadin' the way, huh?"_

_Jack scowled at him and turned to continue walking._

"_How old are you anyway, kid? Twenty-five, twenty-six?" Tom asked him._

_He rolled his eyes, "Twenty-three", he replied, and the men laughed._

"_You ain't nothin' but a damn baby! Listen ta you tryin' ta tell us Big Boys how ta plan a job!"_

The Joker clenched his jaw as he continued shaking the vial, finally removing his finger to empty the contents into a beaker and note the chemical reaction which he scribbled onto his notepad.

In the foyer, Mac anxiously checked his watch as he stretched, trying to appear nonchalant, "The other two boys otta be relievin' us soon, yeah?"

Joey checked his Rolex, "Yeah, you can go ahead an' go if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I got this for another thirty minutes, go home."

Mac stood quickly from his seat, "Sweet. I'll be seein' ya, man."

His friend threw him a piece sign and he walked briskly toward the back stage door to climb into his car, heart pounding with excitement. Once he had made it out of the parking garage and down the road a safe distance, Mac pulled his car over to the side of the road and popped the trunk. Stepping out of the driver side, he checked the darkened street and opened the trunk to unzip the luggage case. He began to throw Harley's clothes sloppily inside, all except a single white blouse, and zipped the case shut. He then wrapped the bejeweled rose within the fabric of the blouse and laid it on the concrete of the street before pulling a hammer from his trunk and smashing it to bits underneath the cloth. He quickly glanced around at the abandoned street again and picked up the cloth. Shutting the trunk, and returning to the driver's side door he laid the cloth into the passenger seat and took off down the road toward the place he had heard the boys say Harley always ran to during their lover's quarrels. Minutes later, as he turned onto the darkened dirt path surrounded by trees, Mac smacked his hands in an excited rhythm as he sang along with the radio. He could almost taste her sweet lips, and that body, that body would soon be writhing underneath his as he made sweet love to her, and the thought made his spine tingle with anticipation.

Harley's head rested solemnly against the window in her spot, and she closed her eyes as she exhaled a deep sigh. She slid down from her table and was just about to lay down onto the hemp pillow bed when a set of headlights lit up the greenhouse.

Quickly hiding from view, she called to her friend, "Red! He's here!" She ran quickly to the pillow bed and tried to look relaxed and unbothered while she fixed her hair and straightened the button up shirt she had borrowed, "You have to answer the door, ya know, so I don't look-"

"-I know, I know", Ivy groaned with a smile. She was sad to see her friend go, but she was glad he had finally come to his senses and come to get the poor suffering thing. Her smile faded, however, when she opened the door to an unfamiliar man exiting the strange vehicle, "Uh, can I help you with something?" she asked.

"Ms. Ivy? I'm Mac, I work for Miss Quinn and The Joker and-"

Harley appeared at the door behind Ivy, "Mac? Where's Joey? Is Mr. J with you?"

He was holding a pile of wrinkled white cloth in his hands, "Uh, no, Ma'am…I uh, I brought a suitcase full of clothes that he…packed for ya."

She stepped out into the grass and looked at him wide-eyed.

"He uh…well, he asked me to…to tell you not ta…come back", he lied, "He said that, uh…you can't stay in Gotham neither 'cause….this is his city."

Harley began to breath heavily and her shoulders twitched a couple of times.

"And, to let ya know he was serious", he continued", he asked me…ta bring ya this."

He opened the cloth to reveal the smashed rose. Harley's mouth dropped open and she gasped as she looked down at her destroyed anniversary gift. Mac saw an opportunity and reached out a hand to comfort her as he stepped closer, but she suddenly threw her body forward and a warm liquid splattered onto his shoes. He leapt back and grimaced at the mess as the Redhead ran to her side and pulled her hair back for her.

"I can't believe it", she whispered, looking up at him, "Did he say why?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm just deliverin' the message."

Harley retched loudly between sobs and painful cries as her friend tried to comfort her, "Shhh, it's going to be alright, Sweetie. Oh, Honey, here let me take your necklace off, you're going to get…stuff on it."

Ivy reached behind Harley's neck as she sputtered and coughed to unlatch the golden, diamond encrusted 'H' necklace that dangled from it. She handed it to Mac and returned to holding back her friend's hair.

"Don't lose that", she told him, "It was…a gift. She…may want to keep it."

Mac tried to repress the sly grin that threatened to escape his lips; Ivy had just handed him the perfect tool to use against The Joker, "I'll uh…I'll get the suit case he packed", he said, attempting to maintain his sympathetic tone.

He retrieved the bag from the trunk and brought it back for Harley who was now sobbing on the pillow bed inside. Ivy took it from him and placed it along the wall before sitting next to her distraught friend whom she wished she could console. Mac walked carefully over and sat next to them on the floor, laying his hand bravely onto Harley's.

"Miss Quinn, if it means anything, I'm real sorry", he lied again.

She grabbed his hand in her small one, and for a moment he swooned at their first touch, but it was cut short when she rose up to meet his face and grabbed a handful of his hair.

"You tell him", she cried with a sadistic expression, "You tell him…he's a dead man."

"Yes, Ma'am", he replied, secretly enjoying her harsh touch as he breathed her in and imagined her soft lips kissing his.

She released him and plunged her head into Ivy's neck, wailing loudly through heavy tears.

"Uh, Miss Quinn?" Mac began after a few moments, "I got an apartment with an extra room on the West side of the city. You're welcome ta hide there, I mean, since he'll know he can find you if you stay here, and he was real serious about you leavin' town."

"I'm not going _anywhere_!" she screamed, facing him again, "This city's half mine! It's _my_ baby, too! I get half custody! He can kiss my ass!"

She returned to crying against her friend as Mac's heart sank; that wasn't exactly the reaction he had planned on. He had planned for her to cry onto _his_ shoulder and reward his sweet offer with a kiss as she climbed into his vehicle and they rode away together. This wasn't working out very well.

"Mac, is it?" Ivy asked him as she stroked her friend's back, "You should go. These grounds are toxic and only Harley and I are immune. She can stay here, he won't last two seconds if he comes looking to start a fight. Thank you for all your help."

The henchman clenched his jaw as he stood from the floor and turned to leave. Harley reached out and grabbed the leg of his pants, and his spirits soared for a second, "Guns", she said, "Bring me guns."

She released him again and he fought to disguise his disappointment, "Yes, Ma'am. I'll have 'em here for ya tomorrow."


	11. Showdown

The door to the greenhouse opened slowly and the tall redhead appeared in the frame.

"Mornin', Ms. Ivy. I brought those guns for Ms. Quinn", Mac greeted her, suitcase in hand.

"Come on in, just know you shouldn't stay longer than about fifteen minutes", she warned him and he stepped inside. Harley was watering plants with a stoic expression and noticed him come in. She lowered her can to the ground and walked quickly toward him, taking the bag from his hand to unzip it on the floor. Her hand brushed his for a moment, and his stomach fluttered.

"This is it?" she asked, staring at the two submachine guns and single shotgun, "I asked for guns, Mac, you brought me toys, and not even any extra clips or shells!"

He shifted nervously, "Uh, sorry, Ms. Quinn, that's all I could get away with without being caught. I took 'em from The House, and didn't want The Boss catchin' me, ya know?"

She sighed, "Fine, I'll make do." She zipped the bag and stood to her feet to look at him, her blue eyes were so beautiful, "Have you talked to him? He hasn't…changed his mind?"

"No, Ma'am, he hasn't."

Her eyes closed and she dropped her head, "Thank you, Mac. That'll be all."

He wanted to touch her so badly, and thought it might be safe to reach out a hand and comfort her, but she pulled away and returned to her watering can.

The Joker donned his gloves and adjusted his tie in the mirror. His makeup was freshly painted over his Glasgow smile, and for the first time in three days, there was an actual smile underneath. He exited the Opera House to find Joey, Sean, and Dan loading the black van with supplies.

"Joey, why don't you and I swing by The Plant's real quick and pick up Harley. I think a little anarchy might put her in a good mood, what d'you think?" he asked his henchman with a grin. So, he had finally given in to temptation, but his pride would recover. All he wanted was to have his Clown Princess by his side for their job tonight; the job they had planned together for months. It just wouldn't be the holidays without her.

"Sure thing, Boss, I'll get the car", Joey responded and disappeared into parking garage.

The Joker whistled to himself and smoothed his suit coat, whipping away bits of lent as he waited for the car to pull around. Joey appeared in his peripheral vision and he glanced up to look at him; his expression was…disturbed.

"Uh, Boss, I found this stuck in the windshield wiper", he held out his hand and placed the broken necklace into The Joker's open palm. The 'H' had been crushed, probably by a hammer, and was missing several of the diamonds what once rested inside it. He looked up at his henchman and the two exchanged a knowing glance.

"Just get the van ready to go", he said quietly, and Joey nodded.

The Annual Christmas Charity Ball and Auction was held on the top floor of a highly respected corporate business building in downtown Gotham. The city's most wealthy, and perhaps generous, residents were invited to attend in order to raise money for those less fortunate during the holidays. What they didn't know, however, was that more than half of the proceeds each year were actually pocketed by the conniving business investors of the board which organized it, and the rest was sparsely distributed amongst the thousands of starving, homeless, and orphaned inhabitants of the corrupt city. The party had already gathered a large number of attendees who were mingling, drinking, and gossiping in the large round ballroom before the beginning of the auction. Many were curious as to what extravagant item billionaire Bruce Wayne would bid for, and inevitably win this year. They also enquired to one another where he could possibly be; the auctioning would begin soon and he was nowhere to be found.

The ballroom was bordered along it's inside walls with two strips of partitioning wall which created small disjointed hallways on either side of the large double doors leading into the room. The narrow hallways were lined with the paintings of important business figurers, owners, and investors of the large corporate skyscraper, and provided an excellent position for The Joker and his men to begin assembling their attack on the room. They sat crouched within each hallway and readied their weapons as the ignorant party goers paced inside the main room in their formal dress; Joey and The Joker in one hallway, Dan and Sean in the other.

**['Crave You' by Flight Facilities (Adventure Club Dubstep Remix)]**

A very large staircase descended into the room from the balcony area and extra rooms above where Harley was currently walking, examining the full room below that rested just beneath a very large chandelier. When she reached the staircase, she was careful to conceal her weapons behind her as she smiled sweetly and began lowering her leather boots onto the stairs one by one beneath her long, black, strapless dress. The shotgun was strapped to her back and she held the two submachine guns in her hands behind her, but her long blonde 1930's style waves and bright red lipstick made her exude an air of elegance that attracted the attention of nearly every man in the room. One of the men, who had already had too much to drink, elbowed is friend in the ribs as they stared at her descending form.

"Damn", he said, "I hope that's what their auctioning tonight. If it is, I'll start my bidding at five million, beat that, Bob!"

Bob shook his head, "I'll go ahead and write my check for ten, then. My, my, my…the things I could do to that little girl…"

Harley's heart beat wildly in her chest with anticipation as her foot touched down on the final step. She scanned the room with a polite smile, which was eagerly returned by several of the gentlemen in tuxes as their wives scowled at her with jealous expressions. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed and she bowed her head toward the floor, bringing her armed hands up parallel with the floor. There was a short scream in the room, then she pulled the triggers and bullets began spraying in both directions as people scattered in panic. She lifted her head with a sadistic smile and walked toward the middle of the ballroom, bringing her arms to midline and crossing them at the wrists as she continued to shoot.

When the shooting began, The Joker exchanged a glance with Joey and peered around the corner to find Harley throwing lead into the hundreds of terrified party goers as they all rushed like a stampede toward the doors next to the hallways where he and his men sat. None of them even seemed to notice them sitting there as they pushed through the doors and ran over one another in an attempt to escape the crazed psychopath in the ballroom.

The Joker looked at Joey as they ran by screaming, "It's Harley!" he exclaimed with a smile, "I knew she couldn't stay away tonight."

The shooting sounds ceased momentarily and were soon followed up by the cocking and blasting sound of a shotgun. He laughed hysterically and slapped his leg as more people screamed past; it wasn't exactly what they had planned for tonight, but he was happy as hell to see her. When the flow of escaping people thinned down to nothing, The Joker stood in his place as stepped out from behind the wall with his arms held out.

"Princess!" he shouted at her, expecting her to turn and run to him, leaping into his arms.

She turned to face him, but her expression was _not_ one of joy. She cocked her shotgun and his eyes widened for a second before he quickly leapt back behind the partition as the gun blew bullets into it from the other side.

"That crazy bitch took a shot at me!" he yelled at his henchman as he slumped down the wall to sit on the floor next to him.

"Think she's still raw about the breakup, Boss?" he asked.

The Joker stuck a thumb in his chest, "She's the one who dumped _my_ sorry ass, remember?"

Another shotgun round rang through the room and busted the wall further away, closer this time to the two hiding men.

"Fuck! Go, go!" The Joker screamed as they scrambled to their feet and took off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

They hugged the curve of the round ballroom and were hidden from view just as Harley turned the corner where they had sat, shotgun still aimed in her small muscular arms. Her heels clacked the wooden floor as she approached and The Joker readied a throwing knife in his hand.

"Goddamnit, Harley, don't make me hurt you!" he warned from the other side, but she continued to close in on them.

He quickly appeared from around the curve and chucked the spinning knife in her direction, but she easily batted it out of the air with the end of her shotgun and threw him an angry look of surprise which was replaced with a new level of rage.

He hid again from view and looked at Joey, "Well, that just pissed her off."

They began retreating again and came out into the ballroom on the other side of the hallway, skidding to a stop as they met her standing in the middle, gun pointed and ready. A gun fired from the opposite side of the room and the bullet grazed her shoulder, cutting it open as it flew by. She yelped and turned with the gun to find Dan, who was responsible, but just as she was about to pull the trigger, another gun fired from behind her and he fell to the floor, bullet in his chest. She glanced over her shoulder and saw The Joker with is gun in the air; he had shot him. They stared at each other for a moment as the blood trickled down her arm, then she spun around and pointed her gun toward his chest; she had a clear, close shot this time and she wouldn't miss. Her finger hesitated on the trigger while he began to walk bravely toward her, fury in his dark eyes. She backed away from him and they migrated their slow dance toward the enormous circular window at the back of the ballroom which overlooked the city from the twenty-third floor of the building. Soon, she was standing directly in front of it and he in the middle of the room, just beneath the chandelier. Their eyes pierced one another as they threw hateful, hurt-filled daggers back and forth. The Joker thought she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her, and his chest ached as he watched a single tear escape one of her clear blue eyes. She released a sigh, and they fluttered closed as she pulled the trigger on her shot gun. His eyes widened slightly, and time seemed to stop.

_Click._

Her eyes shot open, mouth agape; she was out of rounds. He pursed his lips angrily and shook his head at her, tightening his grip on his gun. With a sigh of relief, she dropped the empty shotgun to the floor and brought her arms slowly up in the air at her sides, like an angel taking flight. She shut her eyes once more and smiled from ear to ear as she extended her spine and dropped her head back, exposing her bare heart, accepting his brutal retaliation, leaping into the arms of death. Unbeknownst her to, his hand began to shake violently and he clenched his jaw while holding his breath as he brought his other hand up to steady the gun. His finger tightened on the trigger just as a moving silhouette appeared in the window behind her posing body. Squinting, he tried to make out the image of the object that was swiftly approaching and growing in size. As it grew ever closer he could distinguish the large wingspan that extended from the humanoid body that it carried, and he lowered his gun.

"Harley! Get down!" he screamed.

He tried to run to her, but the dark figure broke through the window and crashed down on top of her, sending her flying chest first onto the wood floor as bits of broken glass rained down loudly on top of her. Joey and Sean began shooting, but their boss waved his arms in the air demanding them to cease fire; the target was too close to Harley. The Batman stood and grabbed her by an arm, yanking her to her feet while she laughed.

"Hey there, Big Boy!" she guffawed at him, "Come to join the party? Mr. J was just about to put a bullet in my chest."

Batman looked at his nemesis who only blinked and licked his lips spastically with a cool expression. As much as he would have liked to bring both of the quarreling lovers to justice that evening, his target was Harley, and he had her. He tightened his grip on her arm and dragged her staggering toward the open widow where she began taunting him.

"Oh! Whatcha gonna do, Bats, throw me out the window?" her laughing was more hysterical now, "Go on, do it, I triple dog dare you."

"Harley! Shut your damn trap!" The Joker demanded behind them, and Batman turned to his side so he could watch his face as he held his ex-girlfriend precariously out the broken window. He extended his arm so half her body was leaning out, and the dark clown took a few nervous steps forward. The vigilante squinted at him, analyzing his reaction closely. Harley continued laughing as he slid her body further out into the night air, still watching The Joker closely.

"Let her go!" he finally yelled.

Batman smirked and retorted slowly, "_Very_…poor choice of words."

He released her arm and she tumbled out of sight, cackling loudly as her body fell toward the ground. The Joker dropped his gun to the floor and took off in a sprint toward the window.

"NO! HARLEY!" he screamed as he ran and Batman caught him by the jaw with the back of an extended arm as he approached, forcing his him to land flat on his back with this feet in the air.

_The bathtub was flowing over with the water that now puddled onto the tiled floor, and while he couldn't see her head from where he stood, her bent knees hovered over the side of the porcelain along with the rounded tip of her pregnant belly. His face throbbed in hot pain as the cuts began to bleed again and he pushed himself up from the wall to quickly approach the tub and pull her submerged head to the surface. He yelled at her, screamed her name, patted her face gently with his hands, but her gaze was still and glassy. Drops of blood dripped onto her expressionless face and ran down into the water as he sobbed over her, changing it to a murky brownish color._

He grunted as he was rolled forcefully onto his stomach and the flesh of his face was cut against the billions of tiny glass shards on the floor. Batman was pulling his hands behind his back in an attempt to secure them. The Joker lifted his head to find the empty shotgun that Harley had dropped just before she was tossed out the window to her death. He ripped his hand from his captor's grip and grabbed it, bringing the butt of it swiftly up into his jaw, and forcing him to stagger back and release his other hand. The Joker jumped to his feet and ran back toward his gun where Joey and Sean still stood, guns pointed at their enemy.

"Shoot 'im!" he commanded, and they opened fire.

The Batman threw a small object onto the floor and a thick dark cloud filled the area where he stood. When it finally lifted, he had vanished and the men stopped shooting to exchange a glance with one another. A soft _swishing_ sound echoed through the room and The Joker watched as each of the two men standing next to him were hit with a twirling projectile and crashed to the floor. He looked up just in time to see the bottoms of the two black boots falling down on top of him, then everything went black.

Batman removed the syringe needle from The Joker's neck and replaced the cap, stepping away from his unconscious enemy. The other two men appeared to be incapacitated as well, and he turned his back on them to walk to the open window and peer down.

"Is she alright?" he called down to Robin who was standing on a window washer's perch next to a gagged, bound, and furious-looking Harley Quinn.

"She hit her head a on the railing on the way down, but she should be ok", he answered.

"We'll have them take a look at her in the medical wing when we take them in."

"Them? Did you get The Joker?"

"Yeah, how about that? Two for one night", Batman quipped, looking back over his shoulder.

The two henchmen had apparently been playing possum and were now gone, but it didn't matter, they had what they had come here for tonight. Batman's stomach ached as he scanned the room and observed the other dead bodies that had been littered on the floor by Harley's broken-hearted wrath. At least, now, he could bring them both to justice for good. He looked down into Harley's incensed gaze below wondered if there was still any hope in saving Harleen Quinzel.


	12. Restless Slumber

**Commissioner Jim Gordon: Gary Oldman (perfection!)**

* * *

The Commissioner of Gotham City had been awoken from a light slumber in the very early hours of the morning on December 13th to the buzzing of his cell phone on the night stand.

"We've got 'em, Sir! Batman just took them into custody and they are in route to Arkham right now", the officer's voice rang excitedly on the other end. Jim sat up in bed and his wife stirred in her sleep, rolling over and mumbling quietly.

"I'm on my way", he whispered and pressed the red button on the touch screen to end call on the smartphone, rising quickly to his feet to find his clothes from the day before. He accidently kicked his shoe across the room in the dark and his wife sat up in bed, turning the lamp on.

"Jim?", she asked hazily.

"We got the sorry bastards, Honey, and we're gonna keep them this time! I'm going down to Arkham to check on things, I'll call you", he explained as he pulled his coat on over his shoulders.

She closed her eyes and released a long sigh of relief; she would finally be able to sleep now. _Really _sleep. He walked over to side of the bed and leaned in to kiss her before grabbing his badge and gun, heading out to his car.

Harley and The Joker sat in the back seat of the speeding Batmobile as it turned down the corner of the Arkham Island Bridge and raced through the thick woods down the long road leading to Arkham Asylum; their home away from home. There were no windows in the caged area where they were contained, so instead, she stared at the pointed ears of their vigilante captor over the top of his driver's seat in front of her. The Joker was still unconscious and lay in the seat next to her, his head rubbing up against the outside of her thigh as the car bounced softly down the road. She glanced down to glare at him and her stomach ached; she had almost killed him tonight, they had almost killed each other, and yet, she still loved him. She lifted her cuffed hands from her lap to pull out bits of tiny glass that were imbedded into the side of his face as he slept. For the first time, they would be locked inside Arkham together. She wouldn't be able to escape him or purge her system of him, she would hurt forever. Maybe he would find a way out and leave her there, she would prefer that. She lifted her head and caught The Batman's dark stare in his rearview mirror, but her face remained expressionless as she challenged his gaze. Normally, she would be antagonizing him the entire ride to the Asylum; singing songs like 'A Thousand Bottles of Beer' at the top of her lungs, shaking the cage behind his head while she made animal noises, or her favorite, 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are there yet?'. Tonight, however, she was silent and wanted nothing more than to change into her admittedly comfortable orange coveralls, pull the sheets over her head in her terribly uncomfortable cell cot, and sleep forever. His eyes shifted back to the winding road and she finally allowed the hot tear that she had been holding in her lid to slide down her cheek and drip from her chin.

The Commissioner was traveling the dark road toward the Asylum, and couldn't resist the temptation to hum triumphantly as he drove through the darkness. Arkham was equipped with the latest and most advanced security technology, and they had been lucky enough to capture both criminals at the same time. It was a very good night. The guard at the gate recognized his vehicle as he approached, and opened the gates for him, saluting as he passed by. He pulled into the first available parking spot in the front of the building and quickly cut the engine to exit his vehicle. The black Batmobile was already parked in the front, and he knew the couple would be undergoing their routine medical screening before being placed in their cells…forever. He climbed the steps to the building as the guard on the other side of the glass doors allowed him in. Batman was standing in the main hall, investigating the security panels next to cell numbers 666 and 667. Jim walked over to him and grabbed his hand in a congratulatory shake as the two smiled at one another.

Batman's smile faded slightly, "Ten dead, eight wounded", he said gravely.

Jim furrowed his brows and sighed, "They never go down without a fight, do they?"

"She did."

The Commissioner gave a look of surprise.

"I'd like to speak to her, if I could", the Dark Knight mentioned and Jim nodded.

Inside the medical wing, Harley was being examined by the nurse on duty in a hospital bed while The Joker lay still incapacitated in the bed next to hers, arms strapped to the railings. Trudy, the nurse, had known Harley when she was Dr. Quinzel, and maintained her typical sympathetic air as she examined her former colleague. Harley hated it. She didn't want to be pitied. She had made her choices and didn't regret them, even if they had cost her everything; which they had. When they were done, two orderlies came to retrieve her and she joined them obligingly, ready to crawl into her chilly cell. They did not guide her into the main hall, however, and instead were taking her down to one of the interrogation rooms. In fact, they were placing her into the very one where she had first encountered The Joker, and the memory made her head pound. They cuffed her ankles to a metallic loop in the concrete floor, and her arms to the chair behind her which was bolted to the ground. Her blond hair was disheveled, her mascara was running, and there were multiple tears in fabric of her black ball gown. What could they possibly want to know that could not wait until tomorrow? Hadn't they learned by now that their chaotic actions lacked rhyme or reason? The heavy door to the interrogation room pushed open, and The Batman appeared on the other side.

Harley rolled her eyes and groaned, "Oh jeezus, what now, what?" she asked impatiently as he took a seat across the table in front of her.

He sat in silence for a moment, scanning her features with an inquisitive eye before saying, "I'd like to speak with Harleen."

She gave him an amused grin, "Harleen's not here right now, please leave a message-"

"-_Now_, Harley."

"What if she doesn't want to talk? What if she's…_scared_?"

"Of me?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of everyone. Everything. She's weak! That's why she needs me" she answered shortly.

"Harleen, can you hear me?", he continued, "Harleen, I'd like to talk with you."

Harley's shoulders twitched and she licked her lips suddenly. Batman felt the sensation of déjà vu creep over him as he watched her mannerisms mimic that of an incarcerated Joker from many years ago; the night Rachel had died.

"I told you", she warned, "She's…not…interested-_ah_", she growled and licked her lips again as she leaned as far forward as her restraints would allow.

His eyes narrowed as he observed her familiar actions, "And who are _you_?"

She sat back quickly, "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Bats, the insane can't treat the mad, you know." She squinted one eye and clicked her tongue against her teeth.

_What is her psyche doing now? Why would it mimic him?_

"Did he dump you, Harley?" he asked slyly and her keen grin faded into a look of solemn depression.

There was a change in her eyes. It was very subtle, but he saw it.

"What do you want with me?" she asked him in a much softer, more innocent-sounding voice.

He leaned forward to study her face, "Harleen?"

"I just want to sleep", she whispered, holding back tears in her throat.

"Is that what you've been doing, Harleen? Sleeping?"

A tear escaped her lid and ran down her cheek while she swallowed. Her pale blue eyes seemed larger, and her voice much younger. Even her skin appeared to possess a sudden youthful quality in its milky complexion.

Another tear fell from her large eyes as she stared across the table at him, "What would _you_ do?"

_Jack tongued the inside of his new scars while he used the tip of his blade to clean the dry blood from beneath his fingernails, glancing out the driver side window every now and then. He had been waiting nearly nine hours outside the building, and if he had thought it through, he would have packed something to eat but it didn't matter now. The sun was setting and the last of his victims would be emerging from their hiding place soon. He had to time it right, however, or he would miss his chance. He glanced at the large corked vial of clear liquid lying in the passenger seat next to him and hoped it would be enough. Maybe he should have made more, just in case. He looked back at the building and jumped in his seat, dropping his knife down between the accelerator and brake. Scrambling to retrieve it, he kept his eyes locked onto Tom who was walking to his car in the street. He found the knife and reached for the vial next to him as he quickly exited the vehicle and crossed the street just as Tom unlocked his car and stepped inside. Jack rounded the back of the car and approached the driver's door as the engine was cranked on and reached for the handle, hoping that it was unlocked. As luck would have it, the door swung open for him and Tom looked at him in wide-eyed terror just before the vial was uncorked and the liquid splashed onto his face. It immediately began to bubble and sizzle as he screamed and tried to wipe it away with his hands which began to burn as well. Jack smiled and reached in to pull him from the car by a tuft of hair with his gloved hands, throwing him down onto the concrete and hovering over him as he rolled side to side in screaming agony. He stuck the blade into one side of the man's mouth, tenting the soft cheek._

"_Why so serious, there, Tommy boy?", he asked his writhing victim who was in too much pain to respond, "Let's put a smile on that face."_

**['I Go to Sleep' by Sia]**

The Joker grunted and tried to turn his head away. Someone was holding his eyelid open and shining an obnoxious light into it.

"Fuck off", he muttered drowsily and the light disappeared, leaving spots in his vision as he blinked repeatedly to regain focus.

After a few moments, the white room came into view and he saw Trudy who was taking notes on a clipboard a few safe feet away from the bed. The disorientation began to lift and he remembered the tragic events of that evening. Harley; she was dead. He shut his eyes tight and repressed the desire to wail like an abandoned child as two orderlies entered the room to escort him to his cell. His feet shuffled the floor in their cuffs while they walked, and he stared at the tiles in the floor silently. The orderlies exchanged a glance; this was a welcomed change to his typical childish behavior. They approached his cell, number 666, and one of the orderlies swiped his card into a sophisticated-looking touch screen panel next to the automatic, sliding, reinforced, glass door.

The Joker smirked, "Look at all this new security. How's a guys suppose to break outta here?" he asked darkly.

The door hissed as it slid open and they shoved him inside, throwing his coveralls onto the bed next to him and allowing the door to slide shut and click as it locked.

"You know the routine, Clown", he orderly said to him from the other side.

The Joker rolled his eyes with a sideways grin and turned around, backing into the glass so they could uncuff his hands and ankles through the sliding panels in the glass. They stood by and watched as he changed from his suit attire into his coveralls and placed the loose clothing directly in front of the glass before walking to the back of the cell and spreading his hands onto the padded wall next to his toilet. Most of his clothes had already been removed for him in the medical room, and he only needed to strip the slacks and button up shirt. They opened the door just enough to retrieve the fabric and relocked the door, leaving him alone with his deeply depressed thoughts. In the cell next to him, number 667, Harley sat with her legs crossed under her, sobbing quietly into her pillow as she rocked slowly back and forth on her cot.


	13. Lazareth

**Dr. Joan Leland: Alfre Woodard**

* * *

Mac was pouting in his chair across the table from Joey who was reading the day's news paper. The front page story, of course, detailed the capture of his two boss' the night before, though the truth of the information was creatively skewed in certain places.

_Damn journalists._

"I don't understand why we gotta keep doin' this monkey shit when he ain't even here!" Mac finally complained out loud, "He's gone, man! Locked up!"

Joey placed an index finger into the table, "We keep doin' what we're suppose to until he and Ms. Quinn bust out. End of story."

Mac scoffed and crossed his arms in his chest like a child.

"And as far as rank goes", Joey continued, "I'm The Boss 'till The Boss comes back, so, quit your gripin'. Startin' ta wish I'd never gotten you in this deal."

"Good, then let me leave!"

"You know the rules. Only way your gettin' out is with a bullet in your head, I told you that in the very beginnin'."

Mac chewed his bottom lip angrily. His entire plan had blown up in his face, and now, not only did he have to stay in this god forsaken hell hole, but the woman of his affection was locked away in some looney bin on the other side of the city.

"How do you even know they'll break out?" he asked impatiently.

Joey took a sip of his coffee, still looking at the paper, "They always do. Might take longer since they're both in there this time, but they'll find a way."

"I thought they wasn't exactly on speakin' terms. Didn't he get the necklace?"

Joey's head snapped to him and he suddenly realized he had said too much as his palms immediately began to moisten.

"How do you know about that?" he asked, placing his coffee and paper onto the table and leaning over it while Mac shifted nervously in his seat. "How the _fuck_ do you know about that?"

Mac feigned a cool expression, "Man, Dan told me. It ain't exactly a secret."

It was a good cover, he thought; Dan was dead and couldn't testify, but Joey was no idiot. He knew for a fact that Dan hadn't had a chance to speak to Mac before he died last night. Something didn't smell right, and he was squinting his eyes at his co-worker, studying his nervous features when there came a faint pounding from the back of the building. He looked at the monitor to find the voluptuous figure of Ms. Quinn's best friend standing at the back stage door. His gaze returned to Mac briefly as he rose from his seat to walk toward the theater.

"Ms. Ivy, what can I do for ya, Ma'am", he greeted her as he opened the door.

"Is she here? Did she come back?", Ivy asked him with a worried expression.

"Ma'am?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Joseph, where's Harley?"

"You must notta seen the papers yet."

She looked confused.

"They were taken in to Arkham last night by the Bat, Miss", he explained gravely, but she actually seemed relieved.

"So, did they make up?"

"Uh, not exactly", he answered, looking over his shoulder and closing the door behind him, "Actually, Ma'am, I think you and I should talk. Somethin' about this whole thing don't smell right ta me, and you known Ms. Quinn and The Boss almost as long as I have."She furrowed her brows and nodded at him while he dug the keys to the Cadillac from his pocket and grinned at her, "Coffee?"

The Joker had only just drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep when there was as tapping at his glass cell door.

"Yo, Clown, time ta get up; showers", the orderly said from the other side.

He grumbled and rubbed the new scabs that were forming on his face underneath his still present greasepaint mask.

"Come on", the orderly demanded again.

The Joker reluctantly rose to his feet and shuffled sleepily over to the door to turn around and have his wrists and ankles cuffed. He would have to shower with the other male inmates again while the orderlies watched.

_Oh, joy._

The door slid aside with a hiss and the orderly quickly grabbed him by the arm to escort him to the shower room. As they walked past Harley's former cell, number 667, he briefly glanced inside but found himself needing to do a double-take. He could have sworn he saw her sitting on the bed, pillow in her chest, staring at the opposite wall.

"If I told you I just saw Harley Quinn sitting in that cell back there, would you call me crazy?" he asked the orderly as they continued walking.

The man lifted an eyebrow to him, "I'd say I've thought that about you for a long ass time, and at this point, nothin' you said would surprise me."

The Joker looked forward and shook his head, blinking hard; he was losing his grip.

A few minutes later there was a knock on Harley's cell and she slowly turned her head to find Dr. Leland smiling in at her.

"Good morning, Ms. Quinzel, welcome back."

Harley returned to looking at the wall.

"I've arranged it so that we may begin our sessions today, instead of waiting the usual week", her doctor continued while Harley maintained her vigilant stare.

Dr. Leland noted that it was unusual for her patient to behave in such an uncharacteristic manner. She was normally very bubbly and quick witted, often sadistic, and never quiet.

"I'll see you after breakfast, Ms. Quinzel", she stated, and turned to walk to the elevators at the back of the main hall.

After leaving the Starbucks drive thru, Joey pulled into a vacant alleyway and parked the car, leaving the engine running to keep it heated while he stepped out to open the passenger door in the back and slide in next to Ivy. He handed her the tea she had ordered and shut the door behind him, slightly nervous to be alone with her. He had always had a small crush on the redhead, but had also heard the stories of her poisonous kiss of death and her ill contempt for men of all kinds. Still, they had always managed to maintain a polite relationship regarding their connections with Harley and The Joker.

"I think we outta start from the top and sort through this whole thing. I gotta sneaky suspicion one of our boys may have made a damn ass of himself", he said nicely to Ivy as she blew into her cup.

"Alright, well, Harley showed up at my greenhouse a few nights ago in tears, which is strange for her. So, I assumed that maybe The Joker had gotten himself killed or something, but she told me later that he had actually cheated on her", Ivy explained.

"Well, Idunno if 'cheat' is the right word for it", Joey said carefully.

"I know, she told me about the lap dance", Ivy continued with a roll of her emerald eyes, "We talked about it, and I think what was bothering her more was actually the uncertainty of his faithfulness overall; lap dances aside. By the end of the conversation, I was actually able to talk her down from the ledge, so to speak, and she spent the next couple of days waiting for him to come get her."

"So, she like forgave him?"

"Yes, she seemed fine. I mean, you know as well as anyone that I'm no fan of her boyfriend, but I know he loves her very much inside that sick and twisted heart of his. I just can't imagine him ever doing anything to jeopardize their relationship. That's why I was so shocked when he insisted that she leave town."

Joey coughed into his coffee mug, "Whoa! Wait, what?"

Ivy nodded, "That's what the henchman said. Um, Mike, I think his name was."

"Mike or Mac?"

"Yes, Mac, that was it", she confirmed with a shake of her index finger.

Joey slammed his fist onto the top of the driver's seat in front of him with an angry expression, "That sneaky, conniving, son-of-a-bitch!"

"You mean The Joker didn't send him?"

Joey looked at her and cocked his head to the side, "Come on, Ms. Ivy, you know I'm The Boss' only go-to guy. If he was gonna send a message to Ms. Quinn, he wouldn't do it with anyone but me."

Her eyes widened at him and she placed her delicate fingertips to her full lips, "Oh my, you're exactly right."

"Mac has been eyein' Ms. Quinn since he started workin' with us. I shoulda' known there was somethin' screwy about this whole damn thing. I mean, how many times have those two 'broken up' in the last seven years?"

Ivy rolled her eyes again and shrugged gracefully, "I lost count."

"And don't they always make up in the end? You shoulda' seen 'em last night, Ms. Ivy. They were literally tryin' to kill each other! I think The Boss might have if The Bat hadn't shown up."

Ivy shook her head, "But if he had no idea what Mac had told us, why would he harbor hateful feelings toward her?"

"You remember that little 'H' necklace Ms. Quinn use ta wear all the time, the one The Boss got for her when they first started datin'?" he asked her, she nodded, "Well, I found it crushed ta shit in the windshield of the Caddy last night before the job. We was gonna go pick her up at your place before he saw that, then he changed his mind."

Ivy gritted her teeth, "That insufferable…I gave him that necklace! I pulled it off her neck after he broke the news to her. Poor thing was immediately sick and I took the necklace off so it wouldn't get ruined and handed it to him to hold. I had no idea…", she looked down at her hand with a guilty expression.

"You couldn't have known, Ms. Ivy", Joey comforted her, laying his hand on hers.

They exchanged a quick glanced and he pulled his hand away, clearing his throat. He could have sworn he saw her pale cheeks turn red as she sipped her tea and looked the other way.

"Well", she broke the awkward silence, "now we know what has to be done."

"Yeah, we gotta tell 'em somehow."

"And take care of that good for nothing-"

"-No, Ma'am. Sorry, but I know The Boss, he'll wanna take care of 'im himself. We just gotta make sure he don't get wise to us and skip town."

She nodded, "Right. So, how are we going to relay the message?"

Joey rubbed a hand along his shaved head as he pondered, "They ain't gonna let visitors see The Boss or Ms. Quinn, bein' high profile inmates with no livin' relatives and all, but I know a man on the inside I think might be able to help."

Harley's chains dragged the floor as she shuffled across the cold concrete in her bare feet, escorted toward Dr. Leland's office on the top floor by a burly orderly. Her hands were cuffed together in front of her and she scratched the metal on the chain repeatedly with a fingernail as they walked. When they reached to the doorway to the office, Dr. Leland looked up from her desk with a smile.

"Good morning, again, Ms. Quinzel. Did you enjoy your breakfast?" she asked her patient.

"She didn't eat", the orderly answered for her.

"Oh? Are you feeling sick today, Ms. Quinzel?"

Harley felt a sense déjà vu spread through her crowded head; she had asked The Joker that very same question one morning when he was her patient, and the thought of him stung. Her doctor cleared her throat and gestured to the leather therapy couch in front of her desk.

"Please, take a seat. Lay down, if you need to", she said, and the orderly released Harley's arm so she could walk slowly to the furniture while Dr. Leland typed on her computer. "I'd like to start with some hypnotherapy today, Ms. Quinzel, and I've scheduled you for electroshock treatment later this week."

Harley's head shot up from the arm of the couch were it had been resting, "No shocks!"

"I'm afraid I must insist. Dr. Arkham and I both believe-"

"-_Fuck_ Doctor Arkham! And fuck you too, Doc! No shocks!" Harley was seated on the edge of the couch at this point and the orderly took a few anxious steps toward her.

Dr. Leland waved her hand at him to signify that it was 'fine', and she cleared her throat, linking her fingers together on her desk in a professional manner, "It has been brought to my attention that contact was made with Harleen during your interrogation last night. Do you want to tell me more about that?"

Harley was breathing hard and her eyes bore a dark hole into the doctor's head, "No…shocks…", she said deeply.

"Are you afraid of the procedure or the effects? You will be anesthetized, if you remember, so it won't hurt", the doctor explained.

Harley chuckled in her throat, "You think I'm afraid of a little pain, Doc? I like pain, it gets me off."

"Then it seems you are afraid of the effects, am I correct?"

"No…shocks", Harley repeated with a malicious glare.

Her doctor turned from her and began typing onto her computer again, "I'd like to start you on a new prescription regimen as well, but we will see about that once the hypnotherapy has been conducted. Are you ready?"

Harley was slumping back against the furniture, staring at the floor with a scowl.

The doctor cleared her throat, "Do you remember me, Ms. Quinzel? We were colleagues at one time, long before I was your physician. Does that memory still exist or did it 'die with Dr. Quinzel' as you have put it before in the past?"

Harley's face relaxed, and she straightened herself upright in her seat as a confident grin formed on her face, "I remember you, Doctor, and I'm not dead."

Dr. Leland sat forward eagerly in her chair, "Dr. Quinzel?"

"Harley's getting sloppy", the blonde replied, "Heartache will do that to a woman."


	14. Prodding the Tigress

**If this chapter seems a little too fluffy/OOC, let me know and I'll rewrite it. I just figured it was time to put a more light-hearted chapter in behind all of the terribly depressing ones that have been written so far. Hope you like!**

* * *

Harley's shoulders were twitching even more frequently than usual while she sat on the musty beige couch in the middle of the large recreation room. The concrete brick walls were a dank faded color of white, and she reflected on a time when their color was much more vibrant. The mediums for entertainment hadn't changed much in the last ten years, however; blunted kindergarten scissors, crayons, paste, and construction paper at one rickety table in the corner; a small shelf of tattered paperback books; a single art easel that was never used; and a moldy old couch placed across from an outdated television with a crack in the top right corner where the color faded to gray in a round orb of light. The Styrofoam panels of ceiling tile were brown and sagging in some places, and the whole room smelled like an old daycare center.

Normally, patients were required to wait a minimum of one month to be considered for rec room or rec yard privileges, but Harley had become a bit of a frequent flyer at the Arkham and lacked any documented history of violence while within the Asylum walls. Her doctor was also a firm believer that solitude only exacerbated psychosis and her patients were usually granted privileges much sooner than usual. She had been taken there just after her session with Dr. Leland that morning, and while she couldn't remember what had occurred, she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was very wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. A long run of old Bugs Bunny cartoons were playing quietly on the television opposite the couch and a few of the inmates were gathered around to watch. One of them sat on the crusty rug near her, mesmerized by the colors on the screen, a long clear string of drool hanging from his bottom lip to the floor. Harley grimaced and looked away; that's exactly why she refused meds, and she already knew what would happen to her if they gave her shocks. The thought made her shudder. Her shoulders twitched again and she licked her bottom lip quickly as she looked to her left to gaze out the dirty window. The sky was dark and cloudy, threatening rain, but she much preferred to be out there than in here. She couldn't breathe in here.

The Joker had showered, eaten, and napped very briefly before they came to disturb him yet again. His doctor had insisted that he spend time in the recreation room with the rest of the inmates rather than wallow in his depression within his dark padded cell. He glanced into Harley's old cell again as they passed, but the ghost of her small figure was not on the bed this time, and wondered if she would return to haunt him again in the future. When they reached the rec room, the orderly punched in the necessary codes to allow them entrance, and he pushed The Joker inside. His extremities had to remain restrained, but at least his hands were cuffed in front of him. He thought he might lie on the couch and have another nap, but a petite blonde with long disheveled locks was already seated there. He grumbled, staring at the back of her head as he shuffled over; she would just have to relinquish her seat to him. As he traveled around to the side of the furniture, her profile became visible and his heart stopped. He shook his head and blinked, but she was still there, blue eyes glued to the dancing images on the television screen where many others in the room were also looking. Carefully, he moved toward the back of the couch and stood directly behind her; her form was solid, not like he expected a ghost to be. Weren't they suppose to be clear or white or something? He slowly lifted his cuffed hands in front of him and attempted to slide them through her head in the air, but the metal clinked into her skull as they made contact and she flinched.

"Ow!" she yelled, bringing her own cuffed hands up to rub the spot he had hit as she turned to face him, "What the fuck?"

He reached his hands out and grabbed onto her solid warm cheeks, "Harley? HARLEY?" he began to laugh hysterically and leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away angrily.

He jumped over the back of the couch and landed next to her, bouncing on the beige cushion, causing dust to release from it in a mushroom cloud and brought his hands over her head so she was locked in his arms as he squeezed her and her back popped.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Get off me!" she grunted into his shoulder. He pulled away and began planting spastic kisses all over her face while she grimaced and tried to escape, "Stop it! Stop, you damn lunatic!"

She pushed back on his chest, but his cuffs were still around her back and she couldn't get away from his ridiculous smiling face. It angered her how her body swooned at his touch and her head spun at his scent, making her ache for him severely. As much as she wanted to relish in his affection, however, she was still unforgivably furious with him for everything he had done, for the pain he had caused her.

"Let me go!" she demanded as he pulled her in for another tight squeeze.

"Nope."

"Ugggh", she sighed in frustration, finally relaxing into him.

She was hungry, exhausted, and couldn't fight against him any longer. After a moment, he kissed her crown and pulled his arms back over her head, releasing her to slide to the floor at her feet and grab her cuffed hands in his.

"Marry me", he said with a childish smile and a gasp echoed throughout the room from the watching inmates.

"WHAT?"

"Marry me, damnit!"

She tried to pull her hands away, "Get your crazy ass up off the damn-"

"-Maaa-reee-meee!" he repeated, shaking her whole body on the couch.

"Quinzel, time's up. Gotta go back to your cell now", the orderly called from the door.

Harley quickly stood from the couch and walked as fast as her cuffed ankles could carry her to the door while The Joker watched her with a keen grin. She exited the room with the orderly and the door shut behind them as he looked around to find two dozen wide-eyes staring in his direction and his smile quickly faded.

"The _fuck_ you lookin' at?" he asked them, and they scrambled to return to their activities.

Another week passed slowly by and Harley was constantly bombarded with the incessant nagging of The Joker to accept his proposal. While she hadn't refused him, she also hadn't accepted and he saw it as a playful challenge the way he did with most things.

"I thought you were against conforming to the established order?" she had asked him one day in the rec yard.

He shrugged, kneeling again at her feet in the soggy grass, "Fuck it, let's do the one thing they'll never expect us to do, it'll be a riot!"

A part of her wanted to leap into his arms each time he asked, but it still tore her up inside to recall his demands for her to leave Gotham after destroying her beloved anniversary gift. He had even pointed a gun at her, and it made her wonder what else he was capable of doing should they quarrel again. The uncertainty plagued her, and she refused to accept until it was resolved. The Joker, on the other hand, was still in a state of euphoric bliss, believing that they had cheated death and didn't want to waste another moment of life without her being completely and absolutely his. She wasn't even safe locked away from him inside her own cell, and tonight, she felt that he was being particularly irritating.

"Maaary meeee..."

Harley rolled her eyes and attempted to ignore him while she lay on her cot and read a book from the new Arkham Asylum Library that had been built in the last year. The Joker was standing at the front of his cell, cheek pressed against the glass and arms dangling at his sides as he repeated his song to her next door.

"Maaary meeee…"

He paused to listen for a response and there was moment of silence before he took another deep breath.

"Maaa-"

A loud _thunk_ vibrated through the glass and he lifted his head quickly to find the Arkham guard who had just hit his cell door with the end of a billy club.

"Cut that shit out, you're drivin' me crazy!" he demanded.

The Joker placed his hands on the glass, "Well, I wasn't talking to _you_…"

He glanced down at the silver name tag that read;

_Frank Boles_

Then, looked back up at him, "…Frank. Sorry, but I'm afraid it would never work out between us."

The guard scowled at him, "Just keep it down, Clown."

The Joker sniffed the air through the small holes in the glass and waved a hand in front of this nose, "Phew! Where's the flask, Frankie? Can't they _can_ you for drinkin' on the job, hmm?"

Boles turned to walk away.

"Smells expensive, too. Must take a lot of money to fuel a drinking hobby like that. Ya know, Frankie, I'm a man with lots of money."

The guard stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the dark cell where the inmate inside was leaning against the glass with his arms folded smugly in his chest.

"True, I tend to _burn_ through it pretty quickly, but I always manage to make more", he continued with a smirk, "Now, Harley, that's a pyromaniac if I ever saw one. Do us both a favor and don't give her any matches, m'kay?"

He heard her mumble something from inside her cell and he chuckled to himself. The guard was now standing square with him through the glass with a glare, but The Joker could tell it was one of amused interest.

"I bet you like girls, too, eh Frankie?", he winked at him, " I've got lots of those, too."

Harley threw her book at the glass of her cell with a _crash_ and it echoed loudly through the main hall, making The Joker flinch.

"But you know I only have eyes for _you_, Sweetness", he quickly responded, "Hey! Marry me!"

Boles crossed his arms in his chest and began rocking back and forth slightly on his feet. He looked around quickly and leaned closer to the glass.

"What's your point, Clown?" he asked quietly.

The Joker maintained his cool expression while he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just making polite conversation, trying to be a good host. You stopped by to see _me_, remember?"

The guard leaned back and scoffed, "Just keep it down like I said, Clown, the other loonies are tryin' ta sleep."He sauntered over to Harley's cell and peered in, "You ain't gonna say 'yes' to 'im, are ya? Sweet little thing like you…" he traced her body with his eyes, "…you could come be my little house wife if ya wanted to."

The Joker's jaw clenched for a second, but his anger broke at the sight of Boles jumping back ten feet as Harley threw her body into the glass at him. He guffawed and slapped his leg with his palm, clutching his stomach.

"Careful there, Frankie, she bites!", he warned the shaken guard as he stomped angrily away into the dark.

The loud thumping of music beat through the back door of the _Grin and Bare It_ where Joey stood with a tall, half dressed, and shivering African American woman.

"Just tell 'im the stuff I got written on this paper, that's it", he explained to her, handing her a small piece of paper with messy handwriting.

She took it and glanced down, "That's all? I ain't gotta be in the same room with him do I?"

"Nah, they'll have glass between you, but he's just a nice guy with a bad reputation. You'll see."

She looked relieved, "When do I get the money?"

"When the job's done, I'll bring the cash to the club", he answered, "And remember, Candy, you're his _sister_."


	15. Grapevine

**Waylon Jones/Killer Croc: Michael Clarke Duncan**

* * *

Harley's whole body shook as she retched one final time and the burning fluid boiled up in her throat. She dipped her head low into the bowl and squeezed her eyes shut as the release she had been prodding for finally came. After the wave had passed, she looked down into the water, and her suspicions were instantly confirmed. There, floating amongst the remains of her breakfast, were two oval half-dissolved pills. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while she panted heavily and sat back onto the cold concrete floor of her cell, laying the fingers of the other hand over her eyes.

"Fucking doctors", she whispered. "Can you hear me? Fuck you!", she yelled; partially directed at Dr. Leland, partially toward her own head.

Dr. Quinzel had been consenting to medications, and god knows what else. The increased frequency and more violent twitching of her shoulders recently lead her to believe that she had been receiving shocks as well, and the thought shot a streak of panic through her trembling limbs. Didn't the fool understand what would happen to them if she continued to allow them to treat Harleen? It wasn't as if you could target one alter and not the other, they would both fade into non-existence.

"Are you talkin' to me?" The Joker's voice echoed into her cell from next door.

"No", she answered, eyes still covered beneath her hand.

Another long week had passed and she still refused to give him an answer to his belligerent onslaught of increasingly creative proposals. She removed her hand to glance at the construction paper rose he had made for her the day before and frowned as she recalled the beautiful bejeweled one she had once owned before his childish tantrum had destroyed it.

"You sick or somethin'?", she heard him ask as she planted her hands into the padded wall behind her and slowly stood to her feet.

"I'm pregnant", she answered felicitously, lowering herself onto her cot.

"She's got jokes today, Ladies and Gentlemen."

Harley sighed and lay back onto the cot, mentally willing the shaking to cease in her extremities.

"So are you gonna marry me or what?" he asked.

"Don't start with that shit right now, I don't feel good", she scolded and heard him grumble something under his breath.

There was a long enjoyable silence and she could feel her muscles finally begin to relax as a light sleep crept over her, but it was suddenly shattered when his impatient voice echoed back toward her.

"You know what, Harley? Forget I asked", he said grimly.

Her chest ached, but she knew this moment would come eventually. Maybe it would be for the better that she disappear; at least then, she wouldn't have to hurt any longer. She rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow to her chest, fighting the tears that were forming in the corners of her lids.

The Joker was lying on his cot as well, hands folded behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles while he stared up at the ceiling. He attempted to swallow the hard knot in his throat, but it wouldn't go down. Maybe it would have been better if she had died; at least then, he could morn her death instead of her rejection.

An hour ticked by and the orderlies came to retrieved the inmates from their cells and usher them to the rec room. Once inside, they exchanged a discontented glance and walked in opposite directions; The Joker to take a seat in a plastic chair in front of the window, Harley to the couch. She was resting lengthwise on the furniture reading a book, back against the arm rest so she wouldn't have to look at her ex-boyfriend who was slouched in his chair, staring out at the falling snow. She wanted to wrap her arms tightly around him and ensure him that she still loved him more than she loved herself, but her mind drifted back to his threats a few weeks ago, and it infuriated her that he would attempt to shroud them in a marriage proposal. He must have thought her to be a sappy fool. The door to the rec room opened and in stepped a very tall and muscular African American man. Harley closed her book with a smile as he met her gaze and walked over to greet him with as much of a hug as her cuffed wrists would allow.

"Waylon, hey!", he said sweetly and he returned her smile graciously.

Waylon Jones, AKA Killer Croc, had been one of Dr. Quinzel's patients many years ago. His history of cannibalism combined with his massive and disturbing outward appearance typically sent people screaming in the other direction, but she had always seen past his grotesque exterior and he respected her greatly for it. From birth, Walyon struggled with a severe and untreatable case of atopic dermatitis, otherwise known as eczema, that covered his entire body and gave him the appearance of scales, hence his street name. Croc also happened to be a close personal friend of The Joker which was how he came to know Harley, and today, he was on a mission to help his friends.

"Mornin', Ms. Quinn, you and me gotta talk, your boyfriend too", his deep voice said seriously as he towered over her.

She lowered her eyes in a solemn expression, "He's…not my boyfriend anymore."

"Oh yeah he is, you go and have a seat on dat couch, ya hear?"

She lifted her head and shot him a look of surprise. He raised an eyebrow to her and she shrugged, returning to sit at in the middle cushion of the furniture. A few short strides was all it took for his long legs to carry him across the room to where The Joker sat, still staring out the window.

"We gonna have a little councilin' session, Joker", he said to his friend who pretended not to notice him. "Come on, now, we ain't got all day in dis here room", he insisted.

When The Joker still refused to comply, Croc reached beneath the seat with his uncuffed hands and lifted it easily from the concrete floor. The Joker extended his extremities in shock and shot him an angry glare.

"You got some balls, Croc!" he shouted at him.

"Mmhm, big 'uns", the massive man retorted as he carried his perturbed friend over to where Harley sat, setting him down next to her.

They looked at each other for a moment, then simultaneously averted their gazes as Croc walked over to a table where a couple of inmates where passing the time with crafts. He loomed over one of them and they slowly looked up at him.

"You usin' that chair?" he asked him, and the inmate sprung from the seat, shaking his head.

Croc grabbed it with a grin and returned to place it in front of his two friends who were still neglecting one another. He lowered himself slowly onto the plastic seat which, by comparison, appeared like one you mind find in a preschool classroom.

He paused for a moment, scanning the couple before beginning in serious tone, "Had me a visitor today."

They looked up at him.

"Mmhm, pretty little gal. Say she my sister, but", he chuckled in his deep gravelly chest, "I wouldn't do ta my sister what I wanted ta do ta her."

The Joker snickered at him, but Harley remained expressionless.

Croc cleared his throat, "Anyways, my _sister_, she brought me a message", he looked around the room and leaned in toward them, lowering his voice, "from Joey."

The Joker sat up in his seat and Harley suddenly looked interested.

"Turns out", he continued, "you two been fucked ova', hard."

The couple exchanged a confused glance and looked back at him.

"Y'all know a sorry motha' name of Mac?", he asked, and they nodded, "Mhmm, he done pulled one ova' on you two, gotchu at each other's throats so's he can end up fuckin' Ms. Quinn, here."

The muscles in The Joker's jaw protruded and his fists began to clench while Harley narrowed her lids.

"Ya see, Joey done talked wit Ms. Ivy, and she say Mac come over ta her greenhouse after ya'll had a fight at da club. She say he come spreadin' lies 'bout you sayin' Ms. Quinn betta' not come back, and she betta' go on and leave town. Smashed up dat rose you got her for your anniversary so she'd see how serious you was, too."

The Joker looked at Harley, "Baby?"

She nodded at him, "That's exactly what he did! He showed me the rose and a had a bag packed full of my clothes, saying that you had packed them."

"Dat ain't all", Croc continued, "Ms. Ivy say she gave him dat 'H' necklace of yours for him to hold on to on account you was gettin' sick all over da place."

The Joker placed a hand gently on her knee, and she grabbed it in hers.

"And dat little motha' got da nerve ta go an' smash it up too before he stuck it underneath the windshield wiper of de Caddy out back, so's you could find it and think she was sendin' a message."

"Yep, that's pretty much how it went down", The Joker confirmed to Harley, "I was on my way to come and get you before Joey found that fucking necklace."

She squeezed his hand tighter in hers, "So, you did want me to come home?"

"Hell yeah I wanted you home!"

Tears were threatening to leave her eyes again, "I thought you wanted me dead."

He reached up and grabbed her face, "No, Princess. _You_ shot at _me,_ remember?"

They shared a small laugh and she sniffed back a few salty tears.

"Yes", she said.

"Yeah, I remember, too, shocked the hell outta me", he smiled.

"No, I mean, yes!"

He shook his head, hands still on her face, "'Yes' isn't a sentence, Sweetheart, I don't-"

"-Yes, I'll marry you, you daffy bastard!" she exclaimed as the tears finally broke free and slid down her cheeks.

He shouted in excitement and tackled her on the couch as she giggled gleefully, tears still streaming down her face. Croc watched them kiss and carry on with a triumphant side-ways grin, arms folded in his muscular chest while he sat back in his tiny chair. After a few minutes, he sat forward in his seat and addressed The Joker nervously.

"Hey, man, uh…"

His friend looked at him with a smile, arms still wrapped around Harley, "What's up, Croc?"

"You think you could uh…I don't know…talk ta Candy for me?"

**R.I.P. Mike**


	16. Psychobabble

Bruce was scanning the medical record on his computer screen when Tim walked up to glance over his shoulder.

"What's that?", he asked.

"Harley Quinn's updated medical record."

"When did you go back to Arkham?"

"I didn't", Bruce smirked, "There's something to be said for having a hacker as your ally. Barbra linked me in somehow so I could keep an eye on things."

His young sidekick pulled up a seat and lowered himself next to him, "So? Is she any better?"

Bruce leaned back in his chair and scratched his head, still staring at the screen, "I'm not sure 'better' is or will ever be the exact word for it, but she seems to be making some kind of progress at any rate. I'm surprised she has been this compliant, actually. They have her on a strong regimen of antipsychotics, electroshock, and hypnotherapies."

Tim chuckled, "I'd like to see her hooked up to those electrodes." He crossed his eyes and flailed his extremities in the air, gritting his teeth.

Bruce laughed at him, "That would make my holiday. I just hope it's worth it."

The Joker was humming a joyful Christmas tune under his breath as he was lead toward the rec room. Harley's session with Dr. Leland should have ended by now, and perhaps she would be waiting eagerly for him in the only place they were permitted to have physical contact. He would have liked to have much more than that with her, but that didn't seem possible given the circumstances. She had been behaving very strangely over the past week since they made up; shrugging her shoulders spastically and at random, slipping in and out of conversations with him, and appearing just generally disoriented. It made him worry somewhat, but Harley was never exactly what one would call 'normal', was she? He shrugged it off as something related to 'that time of the month' and moved on. As he entered the dank, musty room, he noticed that she was absent from her typical place on the couch and decided he would take a seat and watch the snow fall while he waited for her. He began to walk toward the furniture, and as he rounded it, he found her sitting on the torn rug just in front of the cushions, head facing the television.

He smiled and turned his soft hum into a strum of loud vocals as he approached, "Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg! Batmobile lost a wheel, and Joker got away!" He flopped down onto a cushion at the end of the couch when he finished and waited for her to acknowledge him, but her head remained static.

He licked his lips and sighed, "Ok, ok, Joker and _Harley_ got away."

She continued to ignore him, so he scooted over closer to her and bent forward to get a better look at her face, "Aw come on, what did I do this time? Sugar?"

His face relaxed into an expression of worrisome wonder when he noticed the long string of drool hanging from her slightly agape mouth. Her gaze was fixed onto the moving colors of the television, but her eyes were glassy and dull. He kneeled in front of her and grabbed her cheeks in his hands, lifting her face to look up at him, "Harley? Baby, come on, look at me." Her eyes focused past him as if he weren't there and her head felt limp and heavy in his palms as his heart began to thud loudly.

"Harley!" he shook her head side to side and tried to pat it gently, but she was not responding. For a moment he swore he was looking down at Jeannie in her watery grave, and had to shut his eyes tight and shake his head to regain his composure before returning his attention to Harley, "Goddamnit, Harley, come on! Princess, look, look at me, please! HARLEY!" he screamed and her eyes finally moved to meet with his. Her lips quivered slightly and her lids began to flutter. She was in there; he could see her trying to communicate with him, terrified and trapped behind the foggy blue eyes.

"Da...da-da…da", she stuttered and her back tensed in frustration.

"It's ok, Precious, I'm here. Take your time, tell me what's wrong. What can I do?"

The Joker wasn't the type of man to panic, he knew it only clouded one's judgment and he did so very rarely, but in this moment, he was panicking. Harley's body was beginning to tremble and her breathes were staggered and raspy as she tried to speak again.

"D-doc...doctor…doctor", she managed to sputter.

He shook his head, "You need a doctor? You want me to get you a doctor?"

She shut her eyes tight and moaned, "Nuh! N-n-not…n-not dead! Heh-help m-me!"

Now he understood, and it made him furious. He opened his mouth to speak again, but her body began to tremble more intensely and her lids squeezed shut as her limbs straightened out and became rigid, causing her back to extend quickly and force her onto the rug. He hovered over her in powerless horror as she began to convulse violently, eyes now rolling up their sockets so only the whites were visible.

He looked up to find the entire room gathered around her and screamed at them, "What the fuck you staring at? Go call for help, assholes!"

Two of them took off toward the door to call for an orderly while the rest backed away and averted their eyes to avoid his wrath while he kneeled helplessly over her shaking body. Three orderlies rushed into the room behind him, one pulling him aside so the other two could attend to her, blocking his view.

"What's wrong with her?" he queried loudly, but they ignored him, "What the fuck is wrong with her?"

The orderly next to him took a hold of his arm, "Calm down, Clown."

"Get off me!" he yanked his arm from his grip and tried to take a step forward in his cuffs, but the man pulled him back.

"Come on, back to your cell. You're just gonna get in the way."

In a blind rage The Joker threw his cuffs up and caught him under his chin with the metallic loop, sending him flying backward onto the craft table and knocking it to the floor as papers and supplies scattered everywhere. The other two orderlies attempted to grab him but he easily repelled them with a quick elbow and a headbutt. Harley's fit had ceased and she was now laying unconscious on the floor as he dropped to his knees and tried to shake her awake. Two Arkham guards entered the room and stomped over, each taking one of his arms and yanking him to his feet to drag him from the room. He made a quick attempt to retaliate, but there was suddenly a sharp pain emitting from the top of his left buttock and he yelped out before his body became increasingly heavy and darkness began to form in a circle around his vision. The orderlies were returning to Harley's side, and her sleeping face was the last thing he saw before the circles closed in on themselves, and all sound was blocked out.

The sky was darkened outside when he finally awoke in his drafty cell, but that didn't provide a very good indication of the time; Gotham could be black as pitch by 4:30 pm during the winter months. He groaned as the blood pulsated within his skull when he tried to lift it to reference the clock in the hallway. The elevator at the back of the main hall dinged, and the faint clacking of heels penetrated the silence. He looked up through squinted eyes just in time to see Dr. Leland walking past his cell toward the security door and sprang from his cot, causing her to jump as he banged his body against the glass.

"What's wrong with Harley?" he insisted shortly as the doctor clutched a clawed hand over her chest.

"Mr. Joker", she breathed at him, "You startled me."

"Be glad there's glass between us, Doc, or I'd do a lot worse", he warned her, hands on the glass.

She dropped her hand to her side and straightened her back with stern confidence, "Ms. Quinn will be just fine, Mr. Joker, and threats will not be tolerated."

"Who said it was a threat? I'm a man of word, you know", he retorted with a sinister grin in the dark.

She turned to leave but he cut her off, "I asked you what's wrong with her, what have you and that little bitch been doing to her?"

She stopped and looked back at him, "Who?"

"You know who I'm talking about; Harley would never consent to whatever 'treatment' you've been forcing down her throat."

The doctor walked slowly back to the glass with an inquisitive eye on her patient, "You've never mention before that you were aware of Ms. Quinn's alters."

He rolled his eyes, "Who the hell do you think cured her in the first place? That is, until you fuckers started prodding around in her head, stirring shit up you know nothing about. Now, answer my question."

"She's had a seizure, Mr. Joker, nothing serious. They've placed her in the medical wing for observation and she'll be returned to her cell later this evening. Not to worry."

"You're skirting", he snarled, "I wanna know what you've been doing to her."

"That is confidential patient information that I am obligated not to share with you, good evening", she turned once more to exit the hall, and jumped in place again as the sound of his fist slamming the glass reverberated off the high walls around her.

"I'll make you a deal, Doc, you tell me what I wanna know, and I'll make sure your daughter's head doesn't end up in a plastic bag somewhere on that big campus she attends", she glanced back and tried to hide her fear, but he could smell it on her like a nocturnal predator, "Her body, however, I can't vouch for."

She clenched her fists in fury and he lifted a scarred cheek into a malevolent, side-ways smirk, "Pretty girl, your daughter; I have a bit of a thing for blondes, you know, even if it does come from a bottle."

"You…sick, twisted, son-of-a-bitch…if you even-"

"-Woo hoo hoo! Flying off the handle of your frigidly professional demeanor, hm, Doc? Harley had one of those once, too, but I finally managed to _fuck_ it out of her", he growled with a thrust of his hips," I'll bet that sweet girl of yours is a screamer like her, what do you think?"

She stomped toward him in her noisy heels and threw him a hateful finger, "You stay away from her, understand me?" she screamed, attracting the attention of the two guards seated at the doors.

He stood back from the glass with a dark cackle and crossed his arms in his chest, "I'm not normally a fan of virgins, mind you, I prefer a woman who knows what she's doing, but I'm not opposed to providing private tutoring at a reasonable rate."

The fuming doctor threw her arms against the glass and began pounding and screaming incoherent profanities at the smugly grinning specimen within. The guards reached her and attempted to subdue her, grabbing at her flailing extremities, but she thrashed them in wild fury and struck Boles in the face, clawing at him viciously as she fought to access the security panel next to the cell. The Joker turned calmly and crawled back onto his cot, placing his hands behind his head and smiling jubilantly at the ceiling.

_Mission: accomplished._


	17. Pity Party

Dr. Joan Leland was suspended for one month without pay immediately following an incident that occured the night before. She was being reprimanded for unacceptable professional misconduct, attempted assault on a patient, and physical assault on an Arkham guard. During this time period, Patient numbers 666 and 667 would be placed on temporary treatment hiatus, and 666 was under further review for potential transfer to another physician's case load. However, Dr. Arkham found himself faced with the usual dilemma of finding a doctor who would actually agree to treat him. 667 would still be receiving her usual dosage of medications, but the electroshock and hypnotherapies would be discontinued until further notice as it had also come to his attention that she had suffered a grand mal seizure as a potential response to the rigorous treatment methods that had been administered over that past few weeks. What's more, the notorious patient 666 had attacked three orderlies at the time of her episode and required anesthetization in order to be returned to his cell. The Arkham guard, Frank Boles, was scratched in the face by Dr. Leland and a large claw mark had been left beginning just above his left eyebrow and ending at the cheekbone. Dr. Arkham was now attempting to do everything in his power to ensure that the facility was not sued, and if it was, they could protect themselves. The entire evening had been one enormous mess and the paperwork was extraordinarily frustrating.

He sighed and grumbled under his breath, flipping through the mountain of extra paperwork that now sat atop his office desk.

There was a knock at the door and he jumped in his seat, "Yes? What is it?"

The knob turned and a burley orderly stuck his head inside, "Quinzel's back in her cell, now, Sir. She don't look so hot, but the medical wing discharged her."

The doctor shuffled amongst his papers, unsure exactly what he was searching for, "Alright, I'll take a look at her. Thank you", he responded shortly without looking at the man, and the door clicked shut.

When Dr. Arkham reached the floor on the main hall, the elevator doors slid open and he could see Boles standing in front of the glass to cell number 666 toward the front end of the large room. The guard noticed him approaching and quickly turned to return to his post, but the doctor called after him.

"Mr. Boles!", he walked to greet him with a sappy smile, "I do hope you are feeling well today, and I appreciate your dedication in returning to work today after what has transpired."

Frank snorted, "Well, when you're broke, you're broke; scratch or no scratch."

The doctor observed the bandages on his face, "I hope the medical wing provided excellent care to you last night, and that you will be pleased with your healing."

The guard shrugged, "Whatever."

They shared an awkward stare for another moment before Dr. Arkham cleared his throat nervously and turned to walk back toward cell 667. The Joker was standing at the glass in his cell next door, arms in his chest, smug grin on his face. He shot Boles a quick nod as the doctor walked by, and Boles returned the gesture before returning to his post. The doctor stood close to the glass of cell 667 and peered in; she was sleeping on her cot.

"I don't want that bitch treating her anymore", he heard 666 demand next to him.

"I'm afraid that is not a decision you are qualified to make", he replied.

The inmate scowled and squared off with the glass, "Oh? And what exactly would qualify me, your I.D. badge around my neck? Because I assure you, that can be arranged."

Dr. Arkham cleared his throat again and turned to walk quickly back to the elevators. He would never admit it out loud to anyone, but he was deathly terrified of Patient 666, and would never agree to treat him himself. He would have to find someone brave enough to do so soon, and secretly wished Dr. Quinzel was not locked into the cell next to his.

**['Pop Art Blue' by Zero 7]**

Hours later, Harley's lids began to flutter over her tired eyes. She was disoriented, felt as though her entire body weighed a ton, and the nausea was almost unbearable. Her chest began to heave slightly and she realized that she would need to find a place to be sick, and soon. Moaning, she pushed her hands into the hard cot and sat on the edge, head spinning, and attempted to stand to walk to the toilet at the back corner of her cell behind the small metallic partition. As soon as she was on her feet, however, her knees buckled and she crashed down onto the padded floor. Crawling as quickly as she was able in her half-conscious state, she made her way to the porcelain bowl just in time for the sickness to purge itself from her body as she clung to the cold seat. The relief was almost instantaneous, and she sat back on her heels to catch her breath while the light from the hall stung her vision through the glass.

"Harley?" The Joker asked from his cell, and she responded with a grunt as she lay onto the floor which was unfortunately more comfortable than her cot.

"Listen, Pumpkin", he said in English, then broke into slow Creole so only she could understand, "We're-going-home-tonight. Mkay?"

She had learned enough from he and Louis over the last seven years to pick up on certain words, but she couldn't speak no matter how hard she tried, and they had finally given up on teaching her.

"I don't know if I can", she responded to him in English.

"We-have-a-man. How- long-do-you-need?", the Creole was thick, but she understood.

"Maybe just a day or two, I'm so weak."

"Alright", he said in English, "Hang in there, Princess, I got this."

She closed her eyes as the sleep began to drift over her again, "I know."

Another week had to pass slowly by before Harley's body could recover enough to make an escape, but tonguing her meds had finally begun to help, and since Dr. Leland was still gone, they didn't have to worry about any other forms of 'treatment' getting in the way of her true recovery. It was dinner time and sat on her cot in the dark, poking at a tray of mystery meet and pouting.

"This food sucks", she whined.

"Just eat it, you need your strength", The Joker insisted from his cell and heard her respond with a moan, "I'll buy you a steak, just eat it."

She groaned again and held her nose as she placed a small piece into her mouth with her fingers; high profile patients were not allowed dinning utensils of any kind. She chewed it only a couple of times before swallowing the rest whole, attempting to taste as little of it as possible.

"I miss the Babies", she sighed.

"I know."

There was a long pause as they ate and she began to think back to a week ago, or at least she tried to. Most of it was a terrifying blur and she shuddered to think how close she had teetered on the edge of non-existence.

"Puddin'? What happened to me?" she asked him, pushing her unfinished tray away, and wrapping her arms tightly around her knees.

"You flipped the fuck out", he answered though chewing teeth.

"No, I mean, was I…gone?"

Another pause filled the room with silence before he finally answered, "Almost."

"I was scared", she admitted, laying her chin onto her knees.

"Yeah", he said almost too quietly for her to hear, "Me too."

Joey and Mac were seated at their post while Sean played games on the Xbox in the T.V. area. Life had been slow and lazy over the last few weeks, and the boys were becoming restless with the mundane activities of 'watching the nest' while the two boss' were locked away. Joey had taken the money he owed Candy to the club, and as far as they knew, the message had been delivered. He wondered how long it would take for them to find a way out of Arkham, and hoped he would be around to witness the final act of retribution when they returned. Mac may have been a lifelong friend, but he couldn't abide a sorry traitor. He glared at him over the top of his boots, watching him chew on his dirty nails absentmindedly as they passed the time. Randomly, and out of habit, he glanced to the monitors and nearly jumped out of his skin as he noticed the two uniformed officers approaching the back of The Opera House. He yanked his feet down from the table and leaned in close to the screen, nearly ready to scream for Sean to put Plan A into action, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, one of the officers removed their navy cap, and her blonde hair fell past her shoulders while she looked up into the camera with a playful smile.

"Hot damn!" Joey exclaimed, clapping his hands in the air, and the two men turned to look at him with confused expressions as he jogged toward the back of the building.

"Welcome home, Boss, Ms. Quinn!" the henchman greeted The Joker and Harley as he opened the back stage door.

Now that he was closer, he could see that they were attired in Arkham Asylum Guard uniforms and The Joker still had his long hair tucked beneath his cap. Harley was still grinning, but The Joker's face harbored a much more sadistic expression.

"Is he here?" he asked Joey.

"Yes, Sir, and none the wiser."

"Good", his boss walked by him into the building, patting his shoulder as he passed, and Harley stood on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"You saved us, Joe", she smiled up at him.

"Just doin' my job, Miss", he replied with a blush, "Ms. Ivy said for you to let her know as soon as you two was out. I can drive ya there, if you want."

"Tomorrow", she responded, and her smile faded into a look dark malice, "Tonight, we teach."

She walked into the building and he pulled the door shut, "Yes, Ma'am."

He followed her down and into the foyer where The Joker already had Mac on the floor beneath him, shoe in his chest, and a knife in his hand. Bud and Lou were bouncing around his legs and their claws skidded on the smooth marble as they tried to dash toward Harley when she entered the room, cackling loudly and whining.

She kneeled to the floor with outstretched arms, "BABIES!", and they knocked her to the ground, licking her face while she giggled and rolled beneath them.

The Joker looked back down at his terrified victim, "You take good care of my boys while we were gone?"

Mac nodded nervously.

"Idunno, Puddin', they look like they've lost some weight to me", Harley mentioned as she approached them to hover over the henchman.

She stood there for a moment, then suddenly brought her leg back and threw it forward, sharply catching him in the temple with the toe of her boot. He let out a yelp and tried to roll to the side, but The Joker still held him firmly in place with this foot while Harley reached down and grabbed a tuft of his hair, yanking his face up to meet hers, "You got some fuckin' nerve, boy! No one lies to Harley Quinn! _And_…you smashed my rose."

She punched his jaw with a hook of her powerful fist and spat in his face before straightening back up to tower over him as his face and head began to throb with both pain and fear.

"Harley who?" The Joker asked her with a grin.

She turned to look at him and grabbed his hand lovingly in hers, "I mean, Harley Napier, sorry Puddin'."

He looked back down at Mac and leaned over close to his pounding face, "Hear that, Sparky? My wife. All mine. You still wanna fuck her?"

He shook his head spastically and The Joker straightened back up.

"No? Well, why not? Is she suddenly unattractive now that she's a ball and chain?"

"Hey!" his bride protested, and he grabbed her chin in his hand.

"A very beautiful ball and chain with poisonous metal spikes and razor blade edges, my Love", he cooed, and she smiled at him.

"He's such a romantic", Harley mentioned to their frightened captive.

The Joker shrugged, "I try to be sweet, I really do, people just never seem to get it."

"I always said your sweet side was your best side", she quoted a scene from _Kill Bill._

"I guess that's why you're the only one who's ever seen it", he quoted in return, stroking her face with the back of his fingers.

Mac thought for a moment that they might get wrapped up in one another and let him go, but realized how horribly mistaken he was when they both turned their heads and bent down over him, flicking open their switchblades.

"He has pretty eyes", Harley said maliciously.

The Joker cocked his head to the side and observed them, "How many eyes to you need to see with, Baby?"

"Not two."


	18. Mad Empire

Joey pulled the black Cadillac as close to the sidewalk as the thick snow would allow him and placed it into park, getting out to open the back door as heavy flakes felt onto his winter coat. The Joker climbed out and held out a hand for Harley who grabbed it and stepped out into the ankle high powder that covered the ground. She handed him two of the three bouquets of flowers she held in her arms and began trudging through the tall, gothic, cemetery gates in the dim light of the 18th century-style street lamps that lit the ground. The Joker pulled a piece of paper from inside his thick wool coat and handed it to Joey.

"There's a suitcase with cash in the trunk, take it to this address and give it to a guy named Frank Boles. We may need him again in the future", he instructed.

"Sure thing, Boss. You want I should go now and come back?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Yes, Sir."

**['Makambo' by Geoffrey Oryema]**

The henchman climbed back into the warm vehicle and drove away as The Joker followed Harley through the gates. She was already several paces ahead of him and had reached her destination; two small headstones that read:

_Gary Quinzel _and_ Marie Quinzel_

She stared down at them for a moment with a scowl before reaching into her coat to retrieve an envelope and a switchblade which she flicked open. She spat onto the paper and stuck it to the frozen ground in front of the tombstones and stabbed it through the middle with the knife, securing it in place like a homicidal paper weight. Inside was a handwritten note:

_Thanks for creating me. I hope you're rotting in hell for it._

_See you there,_

_Harley_

She removed the gum she had been chewing and stuck it to the top of Gary's stone as she turned to walk away. In another, more secluded area of the large cemetery, Harley approached a small rectangular gravestone that lay nearly hidden beneath the snow. She reached down with a gloved hand and brushed the powder aside with a small grin to reveal the name underneath:

_Chino Vasquez_

_Te Quiero Siempre, Papa_

Laying the bouquet of flowers gently underneath it, she kissed her fingertips and placed them to the cold stone. He had been the only other man she had ever loved and time had not healed the pain of his loss, but she was comforted by the notion that he was resting peacefully. She stood and placed her hands into her pockets with a shiver, glancing over her shoulder to see The Joker kneeling at a gravestone a few feet away from her, placing his two bouquets at the base as his fedora collected a layer of snow in its brim. A few flakes caught in her lashes and she blinked them away while she watched him, keeping her distance quietly as was customary for them when they came here. He stood and looked over at her, lifting his arm in a beckoning gesture. She was taken aback and hesitated for a moment before trudging through the snow to join him. He was standing solemnly in front of a stone that bore the name:

_Jeannie Napier_

"My boy would be about the same age I was when…", he paused and looked over at her with a disheartened grin, "I'm an old man."

She closed the small gap between them and reached her arm inside his, "Yeah, but you're my old man."

They stood there in silence for another moment before she asked quietly, "What would you have named him?"

He hesitated before answering, "Jack."

"Like his Daddy", Harley smiled and he nodded slightly while she laid her head onto his shoulder.

"I'm not coming out here anymore", he said quietly.

She lifted her head to look at him, "Puddin', no, you don't have to-"

"-No, it's time she rested. It's time they both did."

She brushed at the flakes of snow in his hair gently, "How did you meet?"

He sighed with a smirk, "She was my psychiatrist."

Harley laughed and pushed his shoulder, "No, seriously, tell me."

The Joker's smile faded slightly, "We lived at the same group home for a few years as kids. She eventually got adopted and I bounced from one fucked up foster family to the next. My senior year of college I saw her sitting at a coffee shop with this other guy", he paused.

"And?"

He grinned down at her, "And I walked over and charmed the boots right off her feet."

She giggled, "Sounds about right."

His smile disappeared and his brows furrowed, "I shoulda walked away."

"If you had, none of us would be here right now."

His eyebrows lifted and he took a deep breath, "Yeah, I guess you're right about that one."

The sound of a vehicle pulling up to the front gates of the cemetery caught their attention, and they glanced back for a second.

"Come on", The Joker said, placing an arm over her shoulders, "I'll get you a big, fat, juicy steak."

She smiled and laid her head against him as they started back for the car in the glittering snow. Harley looked back at Jeannie's resting place briefly as they walked away, and quietly thanked her.

Six Months Later

The Batman sat perched upon the edge of a building overlooking the apartment where he had tracked down one of The Joker's henchman, waiting for him to emerge. He cracked his knuckles in frustration as he waited, mulling over the fact that his enemies had managed to escape Arkham yet again despite the high tech security that had been put into place or the fact that they had been captured together. It was enough to drive a man completely out of his mind. The door to the apartment building opened, and he watched the man known as Mac step out onto the darkened sidewalk, lighting a cigarette as he walked. Batman pushed off of the ledge silently and glided down to land in his path, causing him to jump and drop the glowing stick to the ground before he grabbed him by the scuff of the shirt and shoved him up against the brick building.

"Where are they?" he demanded, just now observing the eye patch and absent right ear.

The man garbled in shock, but didn't reply. Batman pulled him forward and forced his back into the wall once more, knocking the air from his lungs, "Where are they?" he repeated.

Mac reached down into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small notepad with a pen attached, opening his mouth to reveal the dangling piece of moist muscle which was all that was left of his tongue. Batman winced slightly and lowered him softly to the ground where he wrote hastily onto the notepad. Tearing off the piece of paper, he handed it to his dark captor.

Batman took it from his hands and stared at the handwriting with a grimace, "_Honeymoon_?"

Harley and The Joker released one last satisfied moan simultaneously as his thrusting slowed to a halt and they lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. He kissed her shoulder and removed the knife from her neck as he rolled carefully off of her and landed on his back. She wiped the trickle of blood from her skin and laid her head gently onto his heaving muscular chest, sighing as he pulled her into his side. Her face was throbbing slightly from the punch he had laid into her moments before, but she had asked for it, literally. The claw marks on his back began to sting as the sweat merged with them, and he wriggled on the sheets to find a more comfortable position.

"Damn", he panted, "I'm hungry, are you hungry? I'm hungry."

She giggled softly, "Starving."

He lifted his head to reach over for the phone next to the bed and press the '1' digit.

It rang twice on the other end and a male voice answered, "Room service."

"Tell those chefs to light the fires, we're starvin' to death here!" The Joker quipped while Harley smiled into his chest, noticing the bleeding knife marks she had left etched into his flesh.

"Sure thing, Boss", the voice answered, "And just so's you know; we finished unloading the last of the passengers, Croc's in charge of navigation, and Mr. Nigma's handlin' entertainment."

"Joey, you're the best Best Man a man could have", his boss replied.

The Joker heard his henchman chuckle, "Aw shucks, Boss, that's touchin'."

"Oh, and you tell that Wise Monkey friend of yours, if you speak to him, that my boys better get fed and walked on time everyday or I'll feed 'em his other damn eye."

"Not a problem", Joey answered.

"And that travel agent tried to tell me there was no such a thing as a private cruise", The Joker smirked as he dropped the phone onto the receiver. Harley sat up and tried to move to the edge of the bed, "Hey!", he exclaimed, grabbing her by the wrist, "Where you goin', Missus? We're consummating, here!"

"Puddin'", she whined with a smile, "We've been consummating for _hours_, I'm exhausted. Can't we go do something else for just a little while?"

Her husband smirked and rested his hands behind his head, "Alright, what'chu wanna do? Go up on deck and watch the sun set or some romantic shit like that?"

She smiled sleepily, "Sounds nice."

The two wrapped their white terry cloth robes around themselves and donned their slippers to ascend onto the deck. They held hands and approached the back of the ship where Harley stepped onto the railing and spread her arms in the air.

"Jack, I'm flying!" she quoted the movie '_Titantic_' sarcastically.

The Joker stepped up behind her, "And I'm the King of the World!"

"I thought you were the Emperor", he mentioned to him.

"Oh yeah, that's right, Emperor Joker and my beautiful Harlequin Empress."

They laughed together and he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, pulling her in tight as she laid her head back onto his chest.

"Hey, this _is _kinda romantic", he whispered in her ear.

**['Pageant of the Bizarre' by Zero 7]**

The salty air was cool, but pleasant, and the sun was setting behind the cruise liner in a cascade of purple, pink, and blue hues. They watched with contented smiles as it descended below the horizon of endless sea, and its fading reflection bounced off the dotted trail of hundreds of over-boarded passengers thrashing wilding in the Atlantic.

**For My Husband**

* * *

**The Joker's background story was loosely based off of the comic one-shot, 'The Killing Joke' by Alan Moore and Brian Bollard. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it! Frank Boles was a character created for the 'Batman: Arkham Asylum' game, which is one of my FAVORITES! PLAY IT! **

**I hope you enjoyed this story, and if you haven't read 'Harleen', I hope you give it a try. Critiques are appreciated as always, and I hope to return soon.**

**Thanks,**

**-J**


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